


In His Shadow

by Emmaj26



Category: Legend of Zelda
Genre: Alternate Story, Dark Link - Freeform, F/M, Legend of Zelda - Freeform, Ocarina of Time, zelink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-01-25 18:16:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 56
Words: 198,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21360598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmaj26/pseuds/Emmaj26
Summary: A young family is torn apart in the aftermath of Hyrule's infamous and bloody Unification War. Two brothers are left separated, neither knowing the other exists. Link grew up surrounded by the mystery and magic of Kokiri Forest; Dark has grown up haunted by the memories of his parents' death and the man who murdered them. When Link discovers his destiny as the Hero of Time and begins the fight against Ganondorf, the King of Evil, their paths collide once more.An alternate re-telling of the story of Ocarina of Time.
Relationships: Dark Link/Original Character(s), Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	1. The Old World (prologue)

Sweet, encompassing coolness filled the hall; a welcome contrast to the burning world outside the temple. Impossibly, it was undamaged by the fires just outside its stone walls, resisting all the world’s evils.  
The heavy door closing behind him, he dropped to his knees, the pain blinding. He didn’t have much time, but he couldn’t stop his lungs from taking great heaving breaths, or his body from shaking.  
He knew the Demon would make chase soon, after it discovered what had been done to its pet. Glancing down at his spoils from his encounter with the beast, he felt a small satisfaction. A large chunk of its deep blue, armor-like hide and its twin, curving tusks had scattered to the floor. Suitable trophies, he thought.  
Struggling upwards with great difficulty, he placed his gauntlet-covered hands on his own head, gripping his helmet. He lifted it free, tossing it to the ground with the other objects. The clanging sound of it landing echoed in the hall as he stepped forward. Movement was difficult; the heavy armor saw to that. He was unused to it.  
Reaching the antechamber after several long moments, he spotted the shrine: a cylindrical glass case, opaque so that it shielded its contents from viewers, standing tall on a raised platform. Climbing the stairs was agony in every step. Left behind was evidence of his injuries—droplets of blood fell and stained each step.  
At his approach, the opaque shield shimmered, its surface coming to life as if struck by light. The walls around him simply vanished as if they were never there. Alarm coursed through his battle-hardened body at the sight of the fires. The destructive element had already consumed most of the forest. Only the clearing where he stood was untouched, still green and alive.  
The cylinder was emitting a faint, silvery light. It shone on his breastplate, reflecting the image of the sun emblazoned there. The golden armor was redder now, slick with blood and scratched from his battles. On his chest the sun image glowed with new life, renewing his strength. For what he had to do, he would need it.  
Ripping off his gauntlets, he reached out and brushed his forefinger over the opaque surface. It shivered and dissolved before his eyes, and then he saw it, pulsating feebly. The heart of the world.  
There was no time left. The Demon’s cries could be heard, far off in the chaos. It knew it had lost.  
Quickly, he unsheathed the sword at his hip, raising it high. With a roar, he brought it down, striking the crystal.  
It shattered.  
He didn’t notice the high-pitched ringing in his ears until he opened his eyes again. Seeing only whiteness, he was certain he had gone blind. Shards of the crystal must have pierced his eyes.  
“The Demon has been Sealed. You have done well, fierce warrior.”  
He recognized that voice. “Goddess of Time,” he said, his voice betraying his pain, his grief.  
A face appeared in his vision; so he was not blind after all. “Do not feel guilt over your actions. You performed the act I requested of you,” she said.  
The face above him came into focus. Hers was the most beautiful face he had ever laid his eyes on. The face of divinity.  
“But…the world will come to an end.”  
“Yes.”  
“What happens now?” he asked quietly. Looking down, he saw the emblem on his chest, its gold image dull. He wondered then if he would lay eyes on the sun again.  
She reached out for him, keeping his consciousness focused on her lovely face, even as he felt the heavy weight of his body be left behind.  
“The world is reborn.”


	2. Children of Destiny (special chapter)

Hyrule was in a state of unease. The future of the kingdom looked bleak. The people had begun to lose hope. Even now, the forces that would destroy Hyrule marched upon her gates, ready to strike the final blow.  
The King sat alone in his office, his head lowered, his eyes downcast. Outside, it rained. He had failed. He had failed his people. He had failed Hyrule. The war was not over. His army was faltering; their spirits had been stripped. The Gerudo forces approached his city, a dark shadow on the horizon.   
The King raised his head; a slow, almost painful motion for him. His eyes were bloodshot, encircled by the darkness of insomnia. His white, withered hands shook like that of a man twice his age. Indeed, he did not look himself. He had aged decades in a single year.  
Today should have been a day of celebration, but he could not find it in his heart to do so. How could he, when everything had crumbled so rapidly around him? His enemies grew stronger, thanks to his own foolish actions. His allies were dwindling. The Zoras had ignored his plight, just as he had failed to acknowledge them. The Sheikah had been slaughtered. His own doing. And for what? Nothing.  
He stared out of the castle window, an empty man.   
There was a quiet knock at the door, barely heard over the pounding of the rain outside. “Your Majesty?” a voice inquired.  
The King struggled to meet the gaze of his servant. The weight of the crown upon his head suddenly seemed much too heavy for him. “Yes?” he rasped, his voice hoarse.  
“It’s…the Queen, my lord.” The servant regarded his king with sadness.  
Under normal circumstances, the King would be surprised that his attendant would dare to meet his gaze. Tonight, however, was not normal circumstances. The King blinked, unsure if the implication was what he suspected.  
“The Queen?” he did not recognize the man’s voice that came from his own lips. This man sounded tortured; defeated. It could not be him.  
The manservant bowed his head in sympathy. “Come quickly, my lord.”

*****************

Naron paced anxiously through the small sitting room, resisting the urge to run a hand through his dark hair. A habit he did when he was nervous. A cry of pain sounded through the small house, echoing in the too-small spaces. His heart lurched at the sound. He couldn’t bear it any longer.   
The soldier rushed up the narrow wooden stairs, taking them two at a time. At the top he turned the corner, reaching for the handle of the closed door just in front of him. It suddenly opened, causing him to take a step back. A matronly woman emerged, shutting it quickly behind her.  
“She is fine,” the midwife assured him, shoving Naron away from the door. “Do not make things harder on her.”  
“She needs me,” Naron protested, trying to move past her.  
The midwife shook her head. “It is almost time. Excuse me.” She brushed past him, carrying an empty basket to the hall closet. She reached inside for some clean linen, filling the basket, before re-entering the room.  
The door clicked shut as another scream sounded from inside. Naron winced. He leaned back against the wall next to the door, trying to ignore her cries of pain. Slowly his body slid to the floor and he rested his elbows on his knees, breathing steadily to calm himself.  
A door further down the hall opened quietly. Light footsteps approached the soldier and he looked up as a little voice said, “Da?”  
Naron raised his head, opening his arms wide. The little boy rushed into them. “It’s all right,” he assured his son, smoothing his dark hair back.  
The boy looked into his father’s eyes anxiously. His dark blue eyes glanced at the closed door several times. “Mama?” he asked softly.  
The father forced a smile onto his face. “Mama will be okay,” he soothed, mussing up the boy’s black hair. The toddler resembled his father a great deal, even at this young age. His blue eyes were his mother’s, though.  
Another heart-wrenching cry shook the father and son. It was more insistent this time. The door opened and the midwife appeared, anxiously ushering them inside. Naron wasted no time. He scooped his son into his arms, rushing to his wife’s bedside.  
He set the boy into a nearby chair. He curled up without a sound, understanding in the way children do when it is time to behave. Naron sat on the bed next to her, raising her hand to his mouth to kiss it. The bed was small, but sturdy. He suddenly felt ashamed that all he had been able to provide for her comfort was this simple bed. As if confirming his thoughts, she shifted her weight.  
“Are you comfortable, Shaiya?” he asked anxiously, moving to adjust the pillows behind her head.  
She shook her head sternly. “I’m fine, Naron,” she replied. “Do not think you have failed me in some way, simply because we are not wealthy.” At his shocked look, she managed a breathless laugh. “You forget, my dear. I can read your mind.”  
“Ever since we first met,” he agreed with a laugh.  
“Do you remember that day?” she asked, closing her eyes. Her face pinched as pain took over.  
“Like it was yesterday,” he replied, smoothing her damp hair back from her forehead. His hand tenderly brushed her cheek, and she leaned into his touch, sighing.  
“Tell me,” she requested.  
He managed a smile before sitting back down. Leaning forward, he held her limp hand in his. When the pain came, her fingers squeezed weakly. As memories of that day filled his mind’s eye, he began to recount his version of events.

_Excitement was paramount in the crowd. So potent was the joy of the people that it overshadowed all other emotion. All the fear, anxiety, hate and grief the war had brought was forgotten on the hot summer afternoon. The citizens had gathered to witness the crowning of a new king; a man who would end the war that had ravaged the land of Hyrule for too long.  
The ceremony was taking place in one of the vast outdoor courtyards of Hyrule castle. The people of Castle Town and those in the surrounding areas had been invited to witness the coronation. They filled any open space, sitting on the grassy areas, leaning against trees or sitting on the low stone walls.   
Of course, the noble families of Hyrule were seated at privileged spots nearest the castle entrance. The Prince stood in his royal garb at the top of the stone steps, in front of the massive double doors. With him were several attendants and councillors, ready to begin the ceremony. Behind him stood an array of royal guards, as well as a small group surrounding a young woman dressed in a fine gown and jewels; she was the Prince’s wife and future queen.  
Soldiers surrounded every corner and walkway of the courtyard, keeping everything in check. These were lower ranking soldiers, not the personal guards of the royal family. A group of young soldiers lounged against the western wall, taking in the sight.  
“I heard a rumor that the Princess is pregnant already,” one of the soldiers commented, peering over the heads of the crowd at the finely dressed young woman.  
“There’s no way to tell from this distance,” Naron replied, his height a definite advantage as he surveyed the crowd of townspeople.  
The first soldier turned to his tall friend. “He won’t have the throne for long if his wife bears him a girl,” he said, causing the other soldiers to laugh.  
The line of succession always went to the firstborn girl, even if she had older brothers. Of course, the Prince was an only child, and after the passing of his mother, the late Queen, he had been next in line for the throne. Since his wife had married into the royal family, she could not rule alone if her husband died; in that case her firstborn daughter would take the throne.  
“It will most likely be a girl,” Naron said over the laughter of his friends. “The goddesses have smiled upon us today.”  
“They certainly have,” said the first soldier, brushing his sandy blonde hair out of his face. “Let’s go out and celebrate tonight. What do you say, lads?”  
The men roared with approval. As they continued to gossip amongst themselves, the tall young man kept his post, watching the crowd for any scuffles. From the corner of his eye he noticed a group of young noblewomen approaching from the west pathway.  
“Speaking of goddesses…” he murmured, gesturing to his fellow soldiers.   
He quickly dusted off his uniform and combed his fingers through his untidy black hair. Dark hair was a rarity in Hyrule. Most Hylians had blonde hair and blue or green eyes. Shades of brown and red were also common; black hair was a recessive trait. His darkly handsome looks and the combination of light blue eyes and midnight dark hair had gotten him noticed before. He prayed it came through this time.  
The soldiers grouped together on the edge of the stone pathway, giving the young noblewomen their most charming smiles. The ladies giggled and smiled flirtatiously as they passed the young soldiers. Their dresses created a flurry of colors as they passed by, their lustrous hair and jewelry sparkling in the sunlight.   
The dark-haired solider found his interest drawn to one girl in particular. His pale blue eyes locked onto hers; deep and dark as sapphires. Her young, pretty face was lit up by her exquisite smile. Her golden hair fell in soft curls around her beautiful face, like soft golden clouds surrounding a bright sun.  
The girl returned his smile, neither one able to look away. Finally, their eye contact was broken as her friends ushered her forward. She looked back for the handsome, dark-haired soldier. She blushed when she realized he was still staring after her, mouth open in awe. One gloved hand reached to push her hair behind one pointed ear. There was a wink of light as something sparkly dropped from her hair into the grass.  
The young soldier jumped forward, searching the grass for whatever the beautiful girl had dropped. She was taking her place next to the steps now, unaware that she had dropped something. The soldier ignored the shouts from his companions, retrieving from the grass the tiny sapphire earring the noblewoman had dropped. The gem was priceless; it would have garnered a price that was more than twice his salary.   
He rushed towards the nobility’s seats. He slipped easily through the crowd, stopping behind the golden-haired woman’s seat. Slowly, he reached out a hand to place on her shoulder.  
“Milady,” he whispered when she startled.  
He gently reached for one delicate, white gloved hand. Inside he placed the sapphire earring, closing her fingers around it.  
“You dropped this,” he murmured, moving to turn away.  
She clenched her hand around his, keeping him at her side. “Your name?” she asked softly.  
He grinned. “Naron.”  
She smiled back. “Shaiya.”_

He being a lowly soldier, her family had not approved of their relationship. They had eloped. Five blissful years had passed since their marriage, and they now lived in this small house in the quiet village of Tellura, just a few miles north of Kakariko. It was little more than a year later that Shaiya gave birth to their first son.  
Tonight would be the birth of their second. Another boy.  
“Tonight is a lucky one,” the midwife murmured.   
She was the village’s only healer, and she was well versed in magic. The superstitious residents often asked her for advice they believed she could garner from the movement of the constellations or the cycles of the moon. It was early spring, and the moon was full. According to the magic woman, it was one of the best times for a child to be born. Any child born on this day would be special.  
“Lucky?” he asked, skeptical. He had never been one to believe silly superstition.  
The old woman nodded, wiping his wife’s brow with a cool, wet cloth. “Yes. After so many unfortunate miscarriages, the Queen is finally giving birth to a healthy daughter.”  
He raised a brow. “How can you possibly know that? There has been no news from the castle of any kind in weeks.”  
The midwife chuckled. “The gods are amongst us, tonight. The new Princess and your son will be born tonight. Children of destiny. Mark my words.”  
His attention was diverted as Shaiya began to cry out again. She squeezed his hand in her own tiny, slender white one. The midwife was right, their second child was about to be born.  
Hours later, she lay in their bed, resting. She breathed normally now, and for that, he thanked the gods. Kane was asleep in a chair next to his mother’s bed. Naron ruffled his hair fondly, trying not to wake him.   
The old midwife was busy with his newborn son, murmuring prayers as she swaddled the squalling infant. She turned to face him, holding the baby out to him. He took him carefully, holding him close to his chest as he watched his family sleeping. He was so tired. He’d been up all night worrying since she had gone into labor.  
“What will you name him?” the midwife asked.  
He smiled down at the newborn. He and Shaiya had had a name picked out ever since they’d discovered she was pregnant again.  
“His name is Link.”

*****************

Miles away, the King of Hyrule watched as his newborn daughter, the Princess Zelda, was brought over and placed gently in his arms. He held the infant in the crook of one arm, swaying her to stop her cries. With the other he softly reached over and lifted the Queen’s hand in his. It was cool and fragile. A tear slipped down his chin, staining the pure white blanket surrounding the monarch. With a shaking hand, the King reached up to his beloved’s face, closing her eyes for the final time.  
A servant came to take the child from him as he knelt next to the Queen’s bedside. She had not survived the trials of childbirth. He prayed fervently to the goddesses as he held her hand in his, tears silently leaking onto the bed.  
He prayed for the power to lead Hyrule back into peace and prosperity. He prayed for the courage to overcome the grief of losing his beloved wife. And finally, he prayed for the wisdom he would need to raise his newborn, precious daughter.


	3. A Hero Comes Home

_Hamlet of Tellura_

Shaiya straightened, wiping her brow in the summer heat. She leaned wearily against the side of the house, breathing heavily. Since her husband had been away, it had fallen to her to maintain the house, the garden, the livestock…and the children. She heard a high-pitched squeal and smiled fondly at her two sons, who were busy playing in the yard.   
Her eldest son was nearly four now. Her youngest had turned a year old that spring. The infant was sitting on a blanket, watching his brother with curiosity, giggling occasionally. The dark-haired boy was preoccupied firing a slingshot at some squirrels in a nearby tree.   
Shaiya knelt down and lifted the large bucket of water, having just refilled it at the pump. She carried it carefully inside and into the kitchen, setting it beside the sink. Her chore complete, she hurried outside, wiping her hands on her apron. She stopped when she noticed him doing something peculiar. His slingshot was held limply in his left hand, his face turned upwards. His lips were moving rapidly, pausing for brief moments. As if he was talking to thin air.  
“Sweetheart?” she called.  
He perked up. “Mama?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. His dark hair fell carelessly in his eyes.  
Next to him, the baby clapped his hands together, grinning broadly. Shaiya hurried over to her elder son. “Who are you talking to, darling?”  
He grinned, as if he was in on some secret joke. “Big brother,” he said simply.  
Shaiya’s eyes widened in surprise. “Big brother? Who is that?”  
The boy laughed. “He tells me stuff. Like how to use this!” he held up the slingshot enthusiastically.  
“Where is big brother?” Shaiya asked, playing along, thinking her son had invented an imaginary friend to play with. The village they lived in didn’t have many young children his age.  
“Right there,” he said, as if it was obvious. “Can’t mama see him?”  
Shaiya shook her head with mock sadness. “No, darling. Why don’t you tell mama what big brother looks like?”  
The boy seemed put out that his mother was unable to see his friend. “He’s really tall,” he started, jumping up to try and indicate just how tall. “Like, really tall! And he has silver-white hair, and he’s got really, really light blue eyes.”  
Shaiya laughed. “Is that so?”  
The boy gave her an exasperated look; a most peculiar expression for a four-year-old. He didn’t think the existence of his imaginary friend was as much of a game as she did. He was about to say something more about big brother when his little brother piped up, giggling excitedly.  
“Dad!” the older boy squealed excitedly, bouncing up and down and stretching his tiny hands outwards.   
Shaiya’s gaze snapped up in time to see a lone figure making his way towards the house. He was coming up the main road, and had nearly reached the little stone bridge that connected the two sides of the river. The village was small, and already their neighbours were peeking out to see who the new arrival was. Shaiya stood, feeling tears leak out of her eyes as she took in the sight of the man.   
He wore a long, dusty traveling cloak over his armor. A sword had been strapped to his hip, and he carried a rucksack on his back. His arm was in a sling, and he looked tired, but alive. Shaiya didn’t even realize she had begun running to meet him on the path until she collided into his arms. He held her close, stroking his free arm through her golden hair, revelling in her familiar scent. He breathed her in, whispering her name over and over. She clung to him, thanking the gods he was alive and back in her arms.  
Stooping down, he lifted her, somewhat awkwardly because of his arm, and carried her back to the yard. He released her as his young son came barrelling into his arms. Naron laughed, lifting the boy under his arms and swinging him above his head like an airplane. The child whooped with excitement as his father set him down to pick up the infant that was pleading for attention. He held the baby, in the crook of his good arm as Shaiya cuddled close to his side. She put one arm around their other boy as he hugged her skirt tightly.  
The baby smiled, giggling happily. Naron smiled down at his family. “I’m home now,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to the delicate forehead. “I’m home.”

**~oOo~**

The dark-haired boy lay on his stomach in the long grass. He’d been practicing moving around with stealth. His breathing was quieter than a whisper, and he barely brushed the tall stalks around him as he moved steadily forward. The fields surrounding his home were perfect for this kind of thing. He heard the unmistakeable squawking of a pheasant nearby. His small fist clenched around the worn wooden slingshot; a gift from his father. He couldn’t wait to see the look on his dad’s face when he brought home dinner.  
“To your left a little.”  
He looked up at his big brother. He was a giant compared to the child; approaching seven feet tall. He knelt in the grass, not even needing to put in an effort to remain unseen. He was invisible to everyone except the boy. He felt better with Big Brother there; safer. At first he’d thought he was a bit weird, with his long, white hair and icy blue eyes. But he’d gotten used to it.  
The pheasant shuffled out of its hiding place and into the yard. He crept forward, keeping his cover in the grass. He raised the slingshot, Deku seeds at the ready. The pheasant walked slowly with its back to him, unaware of him. The boy grinned and let the seed fly. His aim was perfect, he was sure. Unfortunately, his prey was startled at the last second by a shout from the house; his mother calling him inside for dinner. The pheasant scurried back into the grass and he growled in frustration, tossing his slingshot to the ground.  
Big Brother placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll get it next time,” he reassured him.  
He just nodded, putting the toy in his pocket for safekeeping before rushing back into the yard and into the house for his dinner.

Later that night, he was crawling into bed in the room he shared with his infant brother. There was a knock at the door and his dad came in. He hopped out of bed excitedly.  
“You should have seen it today, Dad! I almost got a pheasant!”  
Naron laughed as he sat down on his son’s bed. “I wish I could’ve seen that, would’ve been good for a laugh,” he teased, ruffling his son’s dark hair.  
The boy stuck out his tongue and flopped into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. “Big Brother says I’ll get ‘em next time, though,” he said confidently.  
Rather than laugh, Naron’s face turned serious. “Yes. Your mother told me about him.”  
“She did?”  
Naron sighed, unsure of how to continue. He was sure Shaiya’s worries were for naught. But he couldn’t be too sure. He looked into his son’s eyes. They were deep blue, like hers.   
“You always listen to what Big Brother says?” he asked.  
“Yup!”  
“And he keeps you out of trouble?”  
The boy snickered. “He’s a goody-goody, Da.”  
Naron couldn’t help but laugh at that. “All right. Well, how about you keep letting Big Brother keep you out of trouble, and I’ll take care of your mom, okay?”  
“Okay,” he agreed, yawning.  
“Good lad.” Naron bent over to kiss his son’s forehead before rising and blowing out the lantern next to his bed. The youngster quickly burrowed into the warmth of the blankets, falling asleep quickly.  
Naron stopped next to the crib. The baby was sleeping peacefully. Naron reached down to tuck a stray strand of blonde hair away from his eyes when he felt slim arms wrap around his waist from behind.  
He smiled. “You’re so quiet,” he whispered.  
“Mmm,” Shaiya murmured, burying her face in his back. “Come to bed.”  
Naron twisted in her arms, pulling her close. “Can’t say no to that,” he teased, stroking a hand lightly along her hip.  
She smiled at him in the darkness, taking his hand and leading him out of their sons’ room. They lay down in their own bed, content just to lie in each other’s arms. Shaiya fell asleep within minutes, exhausted from the day’s work. Naron found himself listening to her slow breathing, observing the moon outside their open window. It was unusually bright tonight. The light coming in kept him half-awake, and he slept fitfully.  
Sometime in the middle of the night, he woke again. Sitting up in bed, he noted a flash of orange in the window. Frowning, he rose carefully from the bed, walking over to investigate. It couldn’t be morning already, could it? As he peered out the glass, fear and alarm clutched him.   
Tellura was in flames. Fire had overtaken the first cluster of houses in the distance, eating its menacing way up the village’s only main street. There were shadows moving in the street already; he narrowed his eyes with a flash of suspicion. Every figure in the road was mounted, and tiny flickers of silver told him they were armed.  
Confirming his fears, innocent villagers began to flee into the street, escaping their burning homes. Naron could only watch, helpless and horrified, as the dark riders cut them down without mercy, leaving their bodies in the streets. The leader, identifiable as the one astride the monstrous black stallion, turned his mount’s head towards the house across the river: Naron’s home.  
Reacting from pure instinct, Naron turned, knelt and groped under the bed. Sword in hand, he roused his wife none too gently.  
“Naron? What’s happening?” Shaiya asked sleepily as her husband pulled her from the bed.  
“Get the boys,” he urged her. “And leave the house. Now.”  
“What’s happened?” she repeated, all business as she led the way into the other bedroom.  
“The village is under attack,” he replied quietly as she gently scooped up the infant. He stirred in her arms, but didn’t wake up or cry.  
The other boy had lifted his head and was rubbing his bleary eyes. “Mama?” he asked, curious.  
“Come with me, sweetheart,” she told him, striding to him and grasping his small hand.  
He frowned in confusion, but didn’t say anything, following his parents to the first level of the house. Naron glanced out the kitchen window, cursing softly. He turned to his wife.  
“Take the back door,” he instructed her, helping her to wrap her shawl around her shoulders as well as the bundle in her arms. He stooped to help her with her shoes, ensuring his young son was also getting his coat and boots on. “Head for the forest, it might not be safe in Kakariko.”  
“What about you?” she asked, her face giving away her fear for his safety.  
He smiled reassuringly. “I’ll be right behind you.” Leaning close, he placed a tender kiss to her lips. “As soon as you can, ride for the castle.”  
Naron had just started to usher his family out the door when there was a loud crash from the other room. The intruders were trying to break their front door and enter the house. “GO!” he shouted, pushing Shaiya out the kitchen door.  
Hesitating only a second, she grabbed her boy’s hand again and tugged him outside. It was a chilly night, and her breath came in white puffs in front of her. Cold stalks already wet with dew whipped across her legs as she went, pulling her children with her.  
At last she reached the low-ceilinged stable, and felt in the darkness for the latch. Hands fumbling, she unbolted and opened the heavy door, rushing inside. It was drier here, and warmer; it gave the illusion of being a safe place; but she knew they were coming.  
The dark-haired boy waited patiently, holding back his anxiety and curiosity, as his mother saddled their horse. Fear was plain on her face. There were awful shouts and cries coming from the house, making him increasingly nervous. When he asked where his father was, his mother didn’t answer. Whenever he was brave enough to look outside, all he saw were shadows and flashes of fire and confusion.  
“Come here, sweetheart.”  
He withdrew from the window, scared for his missing parent. “I’m going to go help Da,” he announced, and darted for the outside before his mother could reach him.  
“No! Come back!” she cried, giving chase but slowed by the infant in her arms.  
Stepping out of the cover of the stable, she began to panic when she could not find her son in the darkness. Her calls for him went unheeded, and Naron had not emerged from the house.   
An arrow whizzed by her, striking the wood of the door. She gasped, ducking and covering her baby with her body. She had drawn attention to herself by shouting, and now tried to stay quiet. The strangers could be heard calling to one another, looking for their prey.  
Torn between searching for her child and getting herself and the baby away from danger, she crept back into the stable. Mounting the saddled horse, she tied her bundle securely to her chest, shielding it with one arm. She kicked the horse hard; sensing the urgency, the horse charged from the building.  
Immediately, a volley of arrows assaulted her. Shaiya shrieked, leaning low over the horse’s neck. The mare reared and neighed ferociously, primal fear steering her towards the nearest cover: the forest. As Shaiya fled the village, a stray arrow found its mark, embedding itself deep in her shoulder.  
A sharp cry of pain escaped her, but she gripped the reins and the baby tighter, urging her horse into a desperate gallop. 

**~oOo~**

“Da! Where are you!?” his thin voice wavered, on the verge of tears. His father was nowhere to be found, but the horrible sounds could still be heard in the house. He came in through the back door, finding the house seemingly empty.  
Sneaking around to the kitchen, he discovered his father where he had left him. The kitchen door had been barricaded, and his father stood rigid, a sword in his big hands. “Da!” he said excitedly.  
His father whirled, his eyes showing white all around. “Get back!” he shouted at his son. “Go with your mother!”  
Frightened, the boy retreated, hiding around the corner as the kitchen door gave way with a groan, the wooden barricade splintering into matchsticks. Too afraid to look, he covered his eyes, huddling in the hall off the kitchen. He could hear his father shouting as he fought off whoever had broken into their house.   
His plan was to run upstairs for his slingshot was dashed when he heard his father let out a shout of pain. There was a loud thump, reminding him of a squirrel falling from his perch, stunned by the slingshot’s projectiles. Only a squirrel’s small body made barely a sound, and they broke out of their daze quickly.   
Whoever had fallen hadn’t yet gotten back up. From his limited vantage point around the corner, he could see his father lying on the ground, the front of his shirt splashed with red. His father’s arms were lying slack next to his sides, and he seemed very tired, as if they’d been playing a game and he’d collapsed with exhaustion. But usually it was a trick; whenever he went over to see if his dad was okay, he was immediately grabbed and tickled. His dad would laugh and told him that he fell for it yet again.  
“Dad?” he whispered, starting to crawl closer, thinking he was playing pretend.  
From the corner of his eyes, Naron spotted him. Very slowly, he shook his head, raising his hand ever so slightly. Something in Naron’s eyes told the boy to stay hidden.   
A cold voice sounded from somewhere he couldn’t see. “It’s over.”  
That’s when he saw him. A dark giant was standing over his beloved father. His clothes were black, his skin was deeply tanned, even his weapon—the largest sword he had ever seen—was dark in colour. The sight of the stranger made him shrink away in terror; he was dangerous. The man knelt in front of his father, pulling a silver object from his belt.  
His father said, low but clear, “Close your eyes.”  
His parent’s voice didn’t shake, as his did, but he heard the unknown emotion in it. Trembling, he did as his father had asked, covering his eyes with his palms. There was a low chuckle from the dark man, and then a sickening squelching sound. Naron gasped and then groaned in pain, his teeth grinding together. Something clattered to the kitchen floor, and then heavy, booted footsteps told him the stranger was coming towards him.  
He kept his face covered, cowering helplessly in the hall. Several moments passed where he simply sat, the stranger breathing heavily over him. The boy didn’t breathe at all. Without warning, the man departed, his footsteps fading until there was no sound at all.  
Terrified, the boy lifted his hands away. The hallway was dark and empty. The entire house had gone quiet, as if it held its breath as he did. There was a cough and a sputter from the kitchen; he scrambled into the room to his father’s side.  
Naron laid slumped against the wall, his shirt more red than white. His large hand covered a spot on his chest, shielding the sight of the fatal wound. His eyes were glassy, but they focused intently on his son’s face.  
He climbed into his father’s lap, looking up earnestly into the familiar, loving face. “Dad?” he said again, very worried that he wasn’t really playing.  
A shaking hand rose and stroked the dark hair gently. He rasped, squeezing his son’s shoulder faintly, “My…son.” The hand pulled the small dark head close.  
Despite the blood covering his father’s chest, he laid his head on his shoulder, huddling close to him. His father drew in his next breath sharply; his ribs shook and jolted the child. But the exhalation didn’t come; it was merely a release of air. The hand stroking the boy’s hair relaxed and fell away. When he looked up, his father’s eyes were closed. A sob finally escaped his small body as he buried his face in the limp shoulder.  
His hero was gone now, and he was alone.


	4. The Ancient Forest

The Great Deku tree stood at the place where the deity Farore had first touched the world. All life in Hyrule had grown from and been sustained by his roots, buried deep in the rich earth. As the guardian of the ancient world, every forest-dweller was under his protection and care. The many beasts and creatures, the fairies and the lost ones were all his children.  
Their peaceful and solitary way of life had been undisturbed for some time. But the old spirit within the great tree had sensed the seeds of evil leeching their poison into the earth long before anyone else. It was only a matter of time before its first shoot sprung free and flourished in the world.  
But tonight another seed had drawn his attention. From deep in the forest, the wails of an infant reached him, afraid and alone. The Deku tree reached out its roots, searching for the lost baby. There was blood around him; the baby’s mother, unconscious at his side, was wounded. Gently, the Deku tree cocooned mother and child in its sturdy roots, bringing them from the edges of his domain to the heart.  
The mother was very weak; the child continued to cry.   
“Saria,” the tree called, studying the infant. His eyes were wide and fearful, their irises striking blue.  
A young girl came into the grove, walking slowly to the great tree’s wide base. She knelt next to the mother, carefully examining the puncture left by the arrow. “There is nothing I can do,” she said softly, grief lacing her tone.  
The Great Deku tree looked down at the baby. “This is no ordinary child, Saria.”  
Curious, the girl switched her focus to the bundle next to the unconscious Hylian woman. “He will make it,” she announced, leaning over to sweep the infant into her arms. His cries quieted as she rocked him, and she smiled down at the fair face.   
The mother stirred, reaching instinctively for her son. “Link,” she murmured. Her eyes opened wide when her hands found nothing, and she sat up abruptly. The movement caused her considerable pain, and she would have collapsed had not the tree caught her with its roots, cradling her. Shaiya’s eyes fell on Saria, and her son, safe in her arms. “Link,” she said again.  
Saria handed the baby to her, letting the mother hold her son. She brought the bundle against her chest, whispering endearments in Hylian and pressing a kiss to his fuzzy head.   
Strength was abandoning her, and she allowed the forest girl to take the baby. “Please,” Shaiya said to Saria, “Keep him safe.”  
The girl nodded, placing her small, child’s hand on the mother’s. “He is safe here.”  
She smiled lightly, satisfied that her last act had been successful. Her son would be safe. Saria looked down at the boy, giggling as he swiped a hand towards her, distracted by a lock of her long emerald hair. “Aren’t you cute?” she said, tickling his cheek.   
He giggled, squirming in her arms. She laughed, looking up to say something more to the Hylian mother. She lay limp in the twisted, gnarled roots cradling her body. Her left hand lay across her belly, her other hanging loosely. The blue eyes had closed, the fair hair fallen loose and free.  
She resembled a sleeping fairy, her pale face still flushed with the life that would soon leave her body. Her shoulder no longer bled, the stain covered by her hair. The roots curved upward, closing over her. Through the cracks, Saria saw white light surround her; the girl held the baby close, whispering a soft prayer in an ancient language.  
After a moment, the beautiful white light vanished, leaving behind a small glowing orb. From the newborn fairy, tiny, translucent wings unfolded, tinged with gold. It floated inside the tree root cocoon, pulsing with new life. Receding, the roots returned to their place, letting the small fairy free. She flew towards the sky, the Great Deku tree and Saria looking on, and disappeared in the light of the coming dawn.


	5. The Nightmare

_Rain fell from the sky. So heavy and dense that sight was near impossible. The only improvement was the occasional flash of lightning which illuminated the white stone gate, the sturdy wooden bridge closed tightly, impenetrable. Directly above it, the image of the Royal crest had been expertly carved into the stone; its raised surface cast slight shadows each time the lightning light struck it.  
The rapid pitter-patter sound of heavy raindrops crashing into the moat harmonized with the grumble of thunder. This was soon interrupted by a new sound; a rattling, metallic shake as the chains securing the drawbridge gave way. The bridge lowered quickly, slamming into place over the moat. From the dark corridor on the other side, a pinprick of white was visible, growing larger by the second.  
Hooves clattered on cobblestone, a horse’s neigh echoed down the street; the next second, the pure white horse was galloping past him. He leaped aside, raising his head in time to see the rider’s face. A young girl stared back at him. Her head was covered, but strands of wet hair had stuck to her white, wide-eyed face. She was obviously scared; her blue eyes stayed glued to him, and she called his name as the distance between them grew.  
Wanting to chase after her, he found himself rooted to the spot. He watched as the white horse faded from view. From behind him, a horse snorted. Startled, he spun around, feeling the familiar sense of foreboding creep up his spine.  
The black stallion stood there, just behind his shoulder, pawing the ground in irritation. Ignoring his commands, his head rose to meet the new rider’s eyes. He tried to look away, to move, to run, but as usual, he was helpless to change what happened next. The man on the stallion was a giant cloaked in black. The hands gripping the reins looked as though they could crush a man’s skull, and though his features were shadowed, his eyes were visible. They glowed red as a demon’s, without pupils.  
The rider never spoke, never moved other than to raise one arm. Palm open, the man pointed it in his direction. Once again, he could only watch as the static light swirled in the man’s palm, forming into a dark ball of energy. Laughing, the man on the horse released it.  
A terrible scream tore from his as the magic struck him, knocking him to the ground. It electrified his body, causing all his limbs to lock as he jolted helplessly on the cold, wet ground. The sparking, acute pain soon turned to burning fire, eating him from the inside out. He screamed anew, unable to escape the pain and the horrible mocking laughter._

It was the screaming that woke him. Wakefulness crashed into him like a soothing wave, freeing him from the seemingly inescapable clutches of the nightmare.   
Azure blue eyes opened and focused on the carved wooden surface above the bed. Simple but cozy, the treehouse had been constructed of the hollowed-out remains of a Deku tree for his arrival in the forest. It contained little more than the wooden box bed, the necessities and his few childhood possessions. Nonetheless, it was home: warm in the bitter, grey winters and cool in the humid summer.   
Crawling out of bed, his bare feet stepped onto the floor, smoothed to a fine polish from the wear of small feet. The doorless entrance was a glimpse of the pleasantly warm, dark night. Beckoning him, the hushed forest sounds greeted him when he stepped onto the small balcony.  
All his memories began here, in this lush green haven nestled in the southeast corner of the world. It had never occurred to him to question that he belonged here, that Kokiri forest was his home, and always had been. He glanced up at the jagged slice of sky visible beyond the tallest trees.   
Even so, he’d often wondered if he’d truly been born to the forest, as the other Kokiri had. He had heard the story many times, but had never felt the resonance and sense of shared history the other children did. Though he loved the forest, he couldn’t help feeling the outsider due to his apparent differences. Mido’s unabashed dislike and the feeling of marginalism that came from not having a fairy were the other reasons: the only blemishes of an idyllic childhood.  
The unofficial “leader” of the group, Mido had taken joy from bullying him for as long as he could remember. Through the years it had been the same: every year a fairy guardian had failed to come to him. Every year, Mido mocked him for his shame; taunting him by saying he didn’t deserve a fairy because he wasn’t a “true” Kokiri.  
Sighing, he turned away from the sky and his internal doubts. A patch of moonlight cut across the path back to his bed, blotted by his shadow. He stood aside, letting the natural light shine in without hindrance. He wondered how the moon saw him; he often thought of it as the great eye of the sky.   
He envied it for that, how the moon must be able to see everything. Night after night, it was allowed to gaze upon the face of the world. Kokiri forest was safe, but it was limited.   
The desire to experience what lay beyond the boundary was fueled by his feeling of being an outsider, but also by another nagging thought: the idea that he was meant to leave.   
Sliding back into bed, he burrowed under the light covering, peeking out at the splash of moonlight on the smooth floor. Now that the nightmare was over, it wouldn’t return—at least not this night.  
When he drifted back to sleep, he dreamed he was walking along a forest path, the trees thinning and falling behind him, the moon lighting the path.

**~oOo~**

_She dreamed of storm clouds that blotted out the moon, and all other sources of light. She stood on a grassy hill, the wind whipping her dress about her legs as she stumbled forward. Despite her efforts, she made no progress, and the oppressive black clouds continued to unfurl from the skies.  
To her shock, the billowing black mass began to eat at the land, once it was finished consuming the sky. The storm clouds rolled over the plain, rapidly approaching the hill she seemed to be stuck on.  
She turned to run as the vaporous black wall drew closer, but her feet became heavier with each step. Eventually she tripped, the grass rushing up to meet her. Flipping around, she stared wide-eyed at the impenetrable darkness bearing down on her.  
A streak of green light sliced across her vision from the right, cutting straight through the ominous storm clouds. Turning her head, she saw the shadowy mass of the forest, the topmost boughs of its trees swaying violently in the extreme storm winds. At its mouth, a figure was visible, the source of green light. The figure appeared to be holding it in their hands; as the clouds fled the blinding light, the figure became clearer.   
It was a young boy dressed in green, and in his hand was a green stone, glowing brightly as it chased away the darkness. The light shone steadily brighter, until it became blinding. She turned her face away, shielding her eyes._

Princess Zelda V of Hyrule opened her eyes. Hastily, she sat up in the stately bed, forcing the heavy coverings back. Shivering from the cold and the nightmare, the young princess hopped down from the bed and scurried to the large arched window. It had been left open; a freezing wind rushed in, though it was the middle of summer. She slammed it shut, locking it securely so the cold couldn’t seep in.  
Pressing her pale face to the glass, her eyes raised towards the night sky, searching for any trace of the storm clouds she had seen in her dream. Whether these represented a physical incoming storm or a metaphorical darkness that threatened to come over the kingdom, she was not yet sure. Certain that the night was safe and quiet, she sighed and slid onto the window seat.   
All her life she had been plagued by these dreams, these foreboding visions. Her attendant was convinced they were actually prophetic visions—that Zelda had been blessed with the gift of her predecessors. Whether her nightmare was a vision of events to come or a simple childhood nightmare, it did not matter—it was unsettling.  
Afraid, she had told her father, the King, of her dreams. In vain she had tried to convince him of their truth, but he had shrugged off her concerns. Her loyal attendant was the only one to believe her when she spoke of the feelings that consumed her after waking: the fear, the unnatural cold and the sense that her safety, and that of all of Hyrule, was somehow threatened.  
Calm at last, she rose from the window seat and returned to the bed. Closing her eyes, she conjured the image of the shining green stone in her mind’s eye, and the small figure who held it. It was a small comfort, but it brought her a sense of peace, and allowed her to sleep without dreaming.


	6. The Boy Without a Fairy

“Open the gate!”  
The barked order stirred the soldiers patrolling the western wall to action. In a frenzy they took their positions; it required the strength of two men to operate the drawbridge pulley. With the usual clink and rattle, the chain came free, dropping the heavy wooden door with alarming speed. It fell into place with a dull thunk, allowing the visitors to pass.  
“To your stations!” the lieutenant shouted, keeping the sentry guards moving.  
The western wall was Hyrule Castle’s secondary entrance, a way to bypass the hustle and bustle of Castle Town and head straight for the castle. Of course, it also required passing by a heavily guarded passage and the soldiers’ barracks. The procession crossed the bridge without fanfare. A small group on horseback, they followed their path steadily up to the castle’s second gate: the final obstacle before reaching the inside.  
The leader of the group tightened his grip on the reins. He’d waited a long time to breach this castle’s walls. He’d never anticipated these circumstances.  
As he and his companions were granted access to the inner courtyard, he made sure not to miss a detail when he scanned the guards’ posts, and every dark corner of the yard. He dismounted, his cloak swishing around his feet. The lieutenant from the western wall was already there, ready to greet them.  
“Welcome to Hyrule Castle,” he said, his tone stiff and formal.  
It had been a decade since Hyrule’s Unification War. Clearly, some people weren’t ready to forgive.   
Without returning the politeness, he strode past the lieutenant, his companions staying behind with the horses. The Hylian lieutenant followed close behind, his eyes burning holes into his cloak. He suppressed a smile.  
Walking deliberately quickly, he made several wrong turns, forcing the solider to correct his path and lead him straight to his destination: the throne room. As the doors were pushed open by the guards standing outside, the solider accompanying loudly announced their hastened arrival.  
“Your Majesty, your guest has arrived. Lord Ganondorf, leader of the Gerudo.”

**~oOo~**

“Hey! Wake up!”  
He groaned, trying to hide under the covers and ignore the voice telling him to get out of bed.   
“Honestly, lazybones,” it continued. “You don’t want to miss it, do you?”  
Link’s eyes snapped open. He’d forgotten it was today! The voice laughed as he hurried to be free of his bed and pull on his shoes.  
“Really, Link. I would’ve thought that today of all days you’d awake on time.”  
He laughed, looking up to meet Saria’s exasperated expression. Arms crossed, she shook her head in disapproval.   
“We’re going to be late at this rate.”  
Link responded, “Not if we hurry,” grabbing his hat from the floor where he’d left it and racing out the door.  
Startled, Saria hurried after him, sliding down the treehouse ladder next to him. “Wait up!” she called.  
The pair ran up the hill opposite Link’s house and continued onto the dirt path, outpacing several of the Kokiri children on their way to the grove, laughing all the while.  
When they reached the Great Deku Tree’s clearing, they were among the first ones there. Eagerly, the pair took a seat in the grass next to a gigantic aboveground root. Above their heads, the topmost branches bristled as the tree roused itself from sleep. The Kokiris’ guardian creaked like an old timer stretching his old bones, settling into place. Two large knots shifted beneath heavy, darker ridges of bark, serving as the great tree’s eyes. A gnarled bump between the knot-eyes was the nose. As the rest of the forest children filtered into the clearing and sat on the ground before him, the Deku Tree smiled; his mouth a slash in the bark beneath his nose.  
A chorus of voices met him as his protégées greeted him and chattered excitedly amongst themselves. This particular celebration came only once a year and was highly anticipated by all the forest residents. Unlike the Hylians, this was the Kokiris’ lone holiday.  
The Great Deku Tree cleared his throat—no easy feat for a tree, even a magical one—and the clearing fell silent. Even the various animals passing through stopped their chittering.  
Saria nudged Link, shooting him a smile. Saria loved the Deku Tree’s stories perhaps even more than Link. Saria’s fairy companion hovered next to her shoulder, resting there lightly to listen to the guardian tree’s story. All around them, the other Kokiri children had offered their fairy friends a similar perch for the gathering. Link hugged his knees to his chest, his own shoulders conspicuously unoccupied.  
“Welcome, children,” the Deku Tree said, his voice booming even with its usual, gentle tone.  
The Kokiri shifted excitedly, looking forward to the story. Every year, their guardian told them the story of the Kokiris’ origins and their relationship to the fairies. Afterwards, he delighted them with tales of the outside world: how it came to be created by the goddesses and the like. Of course, these were accompanied with warnings about the dangers of that world.  
As his guardian began the by now familiar tale—a story of fairies, the beginning of the forest, and the first Kokiri—Link found his mind started to drift away. Much as he loved the Deku Tree’s stories, this one had lost its allure over the years.   
Increasingly, he was drawn to the occasional account he told of the world outside the shelter of the forest. In recent months, his curiosity had grown until it bordered on obsession. He had mentioned it to Saria once or twice, but his questions about the world outside hadn’t been met with enthusiasm. Saria was relatively ignorant; like all Kokiri, she had never had any desire to leave the forest.  
He hadn’t told her of his nightmares, or asked her what the white structure might be. Sneaking a peek at her profile, he wasn’t surprised to see her already enraptured by the story. Meanwhile, his own mind had already wandered. He felt a bit of guilt about it, but he felt sure if he told her of his desire to see outside, she wouldn’t be supportive. 

**~oOo~**

Princess Zelda V was in a state of anxiousness. The crown princess of Hyrule was often upset lately. Much to the chagrin of her personal attendant, Impa, who hated seeing her protegee so unhappy.  
It might be traitorous of her to think so, but the attendant knew exactly where to lay blame for the young princess’s current distress. A job well done, Your Majesty, she thought cynically, watching as her king once again dismissed the concerns of his only daughter as childish fancy. Ten years old the princess might be, but Impa could attest that she was wise beyond her years. Her worries should be taken seriously.  
Unwilling to watch her young charge’s heart be broken again by her father, Impa looked aside under the pretense of scanning the room for intruders. Not that there were any. Hyrule Castle was virtually a fortress.   
“Father, please!” Zelda was saying, trying in vain to regain her father’s attention.  
“Zelda,” he scolded, focused on the attendant at his arm. He shifted on his throne, upset at seeing his daughter’s tears as her fears were ignored. He pasted on a stern look; this was for her own good. “My dear, these…dreams of yours are nothing. They will pass. Now, you mustn’t bother me, child. I have important business to attend to. Why don’t you go play in the courtyard?” He flapped a hand dismissively.  
Crushed, Zelda bit her lip, stopping any further tears. With a princess-like composure, she bowed formally, excusing herself with an abrupt spin of her heel. She held her head aloft as she had been taught, steeling herself against the sympathetic gazes of the soldiers stationed in the throne room.  
“Impa,” she said, reaching her attendant’s side.  
“Milady,” she answered formally, shooting the nearest soldier a look of ice. He tried in vain to make his face disappear inside his helmet.  
Their departure was interrupted when a herald whipped into the room, blocking the exit as he loudly announced that the king had another visitor. Looking irritated, but resigned, the king gestured impatiently. Satisfied, the herald flung the door wide, allowing a steely Impa and the young princess to pass.  
The girl froze when the herald’s next words revealed the identity of the guest.   
“Lord Ganondorf, leader of the Gerudo!”  
The princess gasped, drawing back into the protection of Impa’s shadow. A giant of a man was framed in the doorway. Not even a mouse could slip past his boot without notice, his bulk took up so much space in the entrance. Zelda had never seen a Gerudo before, but she had heard stories. Particularly of this man. Several of the soldiers visibly tensed at the sight of him. Others could barely contain their shaking.  
For a brief moment, the huge Gerudo man noticed her, and their gazes met. His lips curved in what Zelda supposed was meant to be a polite smile, but to her just seemed like a threat.  
“Princess Zelda,” he said, louder than necessary, bowing theatrically to the young girl. “A true honour to meet you.”  
His words were pleasant, but his voice was like the menacing growl of thunder. He raised his head as he straightened from the bow, his tawny eyes boring into her wide blue ones. Princess Zelda looked into Lord Ganondorf’s eyes and saw nothing but darkness.   
In that singular moment, the crown princess knew in her heart that this man before her was the subject of her nightmares. He was the storm that was swathing its way towards Hyrule.  
When he straightened to his full, impressive height, he noticed Impa standing next to Zelda, a protective hand on the princess’s shoulder. Ganondorf’s eyes glittered.  
“I see the Sheikah still serve their traitorous masters,” he remarked in the Sheikah language.  
Impa didn’t gratify him with a response.   
“As the last of your kind,” he continued with a cruel smile, “I’m sure we Gerudo could offer you a place among us.”  
The look of unadulterated hatred on the Sheikah woman’s face made his skin crawl and itch. He chuckled, somehow managing to make the sound seem sinister.   
“I’m afraid I must decline,” was Impa’s clipped reply. “Excuse us, Lord Ganondorf.”  
She ushered the princess out the door, drawing it closed behind them before the herald could. As the heavy double doors of the throne room swung shut, Zelda watched as her father rose to greet the Gerudo thief. The man cast a shadow across her father’s form, even as he kneeled down to pay his respects. She couldn’t help the shiver that passed through her as the darkness crossed over the king’s face.


	7. The Orphanage

Castle Town had been Hyrule’s quaint, bustling capital for generations. It had long ago surpassed the size of a town and become a fully-fledged city. In terms of size and population, it had grown slowly but steadily like a mighty oak tree. It was crowded, but sturdy and sustaining. 

Ever since the Unification War, however, the sudden influx of refugees and newly parentless children had caused a problem. Accommodation had been the biggest concern, rapidly fixed with the addition of the West Quarter. The orphanages, however, had simply stretched their resources to the limit to house the increase in children whose parents had perished in the war. 

All of Castle Town’s dozen or so homes for children were owned by noble families. It wasn’t a terribly lucrative business; most had been bought by kind-hearted nobles wishing to aid the less fortunate, and kept in the family through inheritance. 

There was no doubt that the current holder of the Palardine family fortune had no interest in his orphanage. Money was automatically sent every month, yet the budget hadn’t been increased since before the war. As it was, the Palardine Home for Orphans was badly in need of funds and in even worse need of staff—their numbers had become unmanageable. 

The most unmanageable of their occupants happened to be a young boy, age thirteen, with jet black hair and crystal blue eyes. Like many others, his parents had died in the war, and he’d been one of many dropped on the doorstep of the Palardine family orphanage. 

Dark lay on top of the peaked roof of the orphanage. His favourite spot. Both for avoiding detection and for the pleasant view it offered of the bustling and bright capital. It was mid-spring, which meant the showers had started. The shingles were a tad damp, but he could care less. He blew an irritating lock of dark hair out of his eyes, watching the progress of passers-by as they moved through the streets below his dangling feet. 

“Dark!” 

He started. The shrill voice of the orphanage’s headmistress, Mrs. Crowe, never failed to leave his eardrums ringing. 

“Where are you?” she screeched irritably. “Dark!” 

The boy resolutely ignored her. Knowing if he stayed out of sight until dinnertime, she would save her punishment until after the meal. Not that he deserved to be punished. Once again, Mrs. Crowe found it easier to make him the home’s scapegoat than actually dispense justice and seek out the real perpetrator. 

Still, he found it difficult not to antagonize her. Leaning close to the edge of the roof, he slid on his belly until he could see her bony fingers readjusting her tight gray bun. Her back was to him—perfect. With a grin, he raised a hand to his mouth. He let out a series of shrill birdcalls, making sure they reached her directly. 

Mrs. Crowe let out a yelp of fear. She hated birds. Dark’s barely suppressed laughter followed in her wake as the headmistress darted back inside in fear. 

“She won’t bother me now,” he muttered to himself. 

**~oOo~**

Walking back to the Kokiri village after their spring storytelling festival, Saria and Link stopped next to the pond. The Kokiri girl kneeled gracefully to scoop a quick sip of the tasty spring water. Link was looking off into the distance, his mind elsewhere. Saria wondered what could be troubling her friend. 

“Everything okay, Link?” she asked tentatively. He could be hesitant when talking about his feelings. 

His head jerked in her direction, as if she’d drawn him from a deep thought. “Hm? No, not at all.” 

Despite his denial, Saria deduced the reason behind his behaviour. “This is about your fairy, isn’t it?” 

The expression on his face confirmed her guess. During the Kokiris’ spring celebration, it was customary for new Kokiri to receive their fairy guardian, as well as the traditional storytelling. This year, the Deku Tree had decided to honour the youngest Know-It-All brother with his fairy companion. It had pained her to see the bitter disappointment on Link’s face, and then the loneliness when the other Kokiri had rushed to congratulate the other boy on his achievement. 

Saria placed a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Your time will come, Link. I promise.” She tried to say the words with sincerity, but deep down she worried about how many more years would pass before the promise was kept. 

The others had begun to talk about Link’s peculiar situation. At ten years of age, it was long past the time he should have been gifted with a fairy. It was concerning, to be sure. But what worried Saria more was the reality that within a few years Link would no longer be a child. 

As a Hylian, he was destined to age to adulthood, rather than enjoy an endless childhood, as she did. She had hoped for many years that the powerful magic of the ancient forest would change him from a Hylian to a Kokiri, or that the Deku Tree would see fit to grant him a fairy guardian. 

She dreaded the idea of admitting to Link that the reason he didn’t have a fairy might be because he was not a true Kokiri, as he feared. She dreaded even more the idea that Link might be forced to the leave the forest. 

“I know,” he said, not sounding very confident in his hope. 

Saria opened her mouth to offer more positive encouragement, but a mocking voice cut across their conversation. 

“Hey! Mr. No-fairy!” 

Link frowned, turning to face the self-named boss of the Kokiri children. “Mido,” he growled at the other boy. 

“Leave us alone, Mido,” Saria insisted, shooting him a scathing look. Now was not the time for Mido’s antics. 

Mido ignored her, circling around Link. “Still no fairy this year, huh? I knew you weren’t a real Kokiri.” Mido’s mocking chuckle was echoed by his cronies. 

“I am a real Kokiri!” Link insisted. 

“Then why don’t you have a fairy? Why do none of us feel like you belong here?” Mido taunted, freckles crinkling on his boyish cheeks as he grinned nastily. 

“He does belong here,” Saria replied, jumping to her friend’s aid. “The Great Deku Tree wouldn’t let him stay here if he didn’t.” 

Mido rolled his eyes theatrically, crossing thin arms across his chest. “I don’t care what the Deku Tree says.” He leaned down into Link’s face. “You’ll never be one of us.” 

Without thinking, Link pounced. He knocked the larger boy to the ground, much to his opponent’s surprise. Wrestling for the upper hand, Mido’s buddies began to jeer in support of their boss. Several other Kokiri noticed the commotion and came to watch. 

Saria rolled her eyes, leaning down to forcibly separate the two. She may not be as big and tough as Mido, but she was the oldest Kokiri child, and the others trusted her. 

“That’s enough!” she scolded, pulling Mido by the collar. 

“Lemme go!” he protested. 

“Not until you both behave!” 

Disgruntled, Link brushed himself off and sent Mido one last dirty look before stomping off towards his treehouse. Struggling to free himself from Saria, Mido called after him, “Wish all you want, Mr. No-fairy! But you’re not one of us. You’re just a freak!” 

The words stung, but Link refused to turn around. He quickened his pace to a run, not stopping until he reached the base of his treehouse. 

When Saria arrived a few minutes later, she kindly kept silent, choosing instead to sit beside him and watch him carve yet another image into the trunk of the treehouse. 

“Do you think I’ll ever get a fairy?” he asked eventually. 

“Of course!” his friend replied optimistically. 

“You can’t know that for sure,” Link pointed out. 

Saria sighed. “Maybe not, but I know I can give you something Mido doesn’t have.” 

Curious, Link watched her reach for the bundle she’d brought with her. It was a funny shape; obviously she’d wrapped some object within the cloth. She wrestled it free, presenting Link with a misshapen slab of wood. 

He looked up at her. “A piece of wood?” he asked skeptically. 

She laughed, turning it over. It was roughly carved wooden shield, emblazoned with the Kokiri symbol, painted red. Link’s smile returned. 

“A shield!? Thank you, Saria!” 

The Kokiri girl shrugged. “I figured it might be useful. I have something else as well…I’ve been keeping it for a while.” 

Excited now, Link accepted her next gift with eyes closed. Something cool, smooth and metal was placed in his palms. His eyes opened and he laid his eyes on the child-sized sword Saria had presented him. 

Link leaped up, wielding the child’s weapon with glee. “I love it! Where did you find it?” 

Saria giggled. “Mido won’t be able to make fun of you now. Oh, I found it a long time ago in the forest…someone on the outside must have forgotten it there.” She shrugged, unconcerned about the sword’s origins. 

Link masked his disappointment. He’d been hoping she would tell him more about those outside the forest. He smiled at her. “Thank you,” he said again. 

Saria looked on as Link took up sword and shield, practicing some basic techniques in front of the treehouse. It pleased her that she could help her friend, but she also felt a sense of foreboding. 

Her eyes rose to the tops of the trees surrounding their home. The skies had been darker lately, the winds colder. Something outside the forest was disturbing the land. She shivered involuntarily. Her gaze returned to her friend, who had miss stepped and tumbled to the dirt. She smiled but couldn’t quite manage her usual laugh. 

Something was coming. And it would change everything.


	8. The Outcast

Dead. 

He stared, mouth open in stunned silence. He couldn’t even remember how to move. Should he even be moving? Thinking? Shouldn’t he say something? 

He closed his mouth. His throat was dry and scratchy. If only there was water. 

Browning leaves fell like snow around Link’s guardian, forming an imperfect ring around the base of the tree. Another long moment passed. 

Today had started out as the happiest day of his young life. That very morning, a fairy guardian had finally come to him. Their first meeting hadn’t been what he’d expected—she’d rudely woken him from bed and berated him until he’d gone to see the Great Deku Tree. But all the same, he’d reveled in the knowledge that he at last had a fairy guardian to call his own. He was a true Kokiri now. 

The fairy, Navi, was hovering anxiously a few feet from him, as shocked as he was. 

“Great Deku Tree?” she asked tentatively to thin air. 

Link swallowed hard. “I think…he’s gone,” he said, not wanting to believe his own words. 

His guardian had summoned him this morning. Another great honour. But the mighty tree had not summoned him with good news. He had been cursed. A dark cloud was converging on the world outside the forest, one that Link alone could stop. Many of the things he’d been told had not made sense to him, but he knew they were important. 

The guardian spirit had entrusted Link with a precious object, and instructed him and Navi to find someone. The Great Deku Tree had then asked Link to defeat the evil that was eating away at the guardian’s power. 

Though Link had bravely faced the evil inside the Great Deku Tree and proven his courage, he had failed. His guardian had died from the effects of the curse. 

Navi’s wings fluttered; the halo of blue light around her faded in and out. “Great Deku Tree…” she murmured, her voice filled with sadness. 

Her grief mirrored Link’s own, and the loss of his guardian overcame him. His limbs recovered from their shock, kicking in to overdrive with only one directive from his brain: run. He sprinted from the clearing, too afraid to look back. 

He was so focused on fleeing the sight of his guardian, once alive and thriving, now dead and dried up, that he ran right into Mido. 

“Link,” Mido growled, clearly as displeased to see Link as he was to see Mido. “What were you doing in the Great Deku Tree’s meadow?” 

Still reeling, Link didn’t answer right away. But he didn’t need to; like all those living in the magical forest, Mido was connected to its life force. 

“The Great Deku Tree,” he said slowly, realization dawning on his face. “Did he…die?” 

Link’s expression confirmed it. Mido’s face was morphed by anger. “You did this,” he hissed at Link. “You killed him! It’s all your fault!” 

Link flinched, protesting, “I didn’t kill him! I was only trying to help…” 

Mido cut him off with more accusations, shoving him aside and stomping past him in the direction of the forest guardian’s meadow. There was a flash of blue light, and a glowing orb blocked the Kokiri boy’s path. 

“Calm down, Mido,” the blue fairy ordered. “Link did not kill the Great Deku Tree. This was not his fault.” 

Mido stared, aghast, at the fairy for a moment before rounding on Link. “I see you finally have your own fairy,” he sneered. 

Link glared back. Mido swatted the fairy aside. She fluttered to Link’s side, shooting daggers at Mido’s turned back. 

Before he stormed off to see the Great Deku Tree for himself, Link’s nemesis couldn’t resist one last gibe. “It doesn’t make you one of us. You’ll never be a Kokiri. You’ll never belong here.” 

Link stood frozen to the spot long after Mido disappeared through the trees. Navi finally prodded him into action. 

“Link,” she said, trying to be both motivating and sympathetic. “We need to go. The Great Deku Tree gave us a job to do.” 

Silently, Link turned, his gait quickly turning back into a run. He only stopped when he reached his treehouse. Panting for breath, he grabbed his belongings and shoved them into a pack. The sword and shield Saria had given him strapped securely to his back, he departed the treehouse, sparing it a final glance before he sprinted for the last place he ever thought he’d go. 

On his way he passed by several of the other Kokiri children, even at this speed, he could hear their curious whispers. Some merely wondered what happened, sympathizing with him. Others outright blamed him, their accusing glances chasing his retreating back. 

Navi hovered close by, her wings carrying her along after him. Link dropped his head and watched his feet eat up the ground beneath him, ignoring the others, even as one of the Know-It-All brothers tried to stop him from crossing the boundary of Kokiri forest. 

“Where are you going!?” he called in vain after Link. “It’s dangerous out there!” 

Link didn’t care. All he knew was that he had to leave. He had to leave the forest. 

**~oOo~**

He had to get out of Castle Town. He couldn’t stand this place anymore. His opinion wasn’t a popular one. 

Loitering in the shade, he pretended boredom, crossing his arms over his chest and kicking absently at loose stones in the street. Dressed in second-hand, time-worn trousers, a plain shirt and cap, he looked as inconspicuous as a commoner kid could. Occasionally, concerned passersby—doting motherly types—would inquire about his parents. With a bright smile he would falsely inform them that his mother would be on her way from the bazaar any moment now. 

Nearby a scruffy little dog bounded around the crowded square, yapping in his direction to get his attention. He’d been tossing a stick for it, careful to keep his eyes on the street, however. There were people everywhere—as there always was in the heat of the summer. Encouraged by the heat, Hylian citizens of every class and occupation strolled the market district, trading, bargaining, buying. Merchants and shop owners took advantage of the surplus population to cram the streets still further with their wares, and restaurants and taverns became suddenly so full of excess alcohol, he was surprised that beer didn’t flow from beneath the doors. 

The sounds of general merriment and shopping made the market damned noisy as well as crowded. It contributed to his negative feelings towards the town. He hated crowds. He hated the summer season. Most of all, he hated that damned thief for being late again and standing him up. 

He was about to give up when a dirty young boy scurried up to him, passing through the legs of the adults around him with the ease of a born thief. The boy didn’t glance at him, just kept on running past him, but he dropped a tiny envelope at Dark’s feet. Stooping to retrieve it, he broke the seal and read it secretively, tearing it up once he was finished. 

Grumbling to himself, he pushed off the wall he’d been loitering against and turned out of the market district. It was a short walk to the East Wall; there were fewer people this way. Unlike those in the Upper Quarter in the northeast section of Castle Town, the people who inhabited it were neither wealthy nor noble. 

The poorest area of the city was so named for the barrier wall that cut it off from the outside world. Centuries old, the wall had protected Castle Town in ancient battles; it was little more than a ruin now, weathered, tired and dirty. Much like the residents it overlooked. 

The streets grew noticeably narrower, the passersby more unkempt. Nobody paid any attention to him; he wasn’t out of place. He could have passed through the Upper Quarter to get to his destination, but this way was shorter, and he preferred it. 

The Temple of Time was older than the city itself. It had been built before the East Wall, even. It stood somewhere on the line between East Wall and the Upper Quarter, precariously bridging the two districts. A humble building, its withered grandeur made it fade into the background. Built of slate grey stone, its architecture was simple and functional—not flashy. The gardens surrounding it were pretty, he supposed. Peaceful and well-tended; by whom, who could say? 

Nowadays the temple grounds were largely deserted. The royal priests visited it strictly for marriage and coronation ceremonies. The place was an unofficial hangout for all of Castle Town’s undesirables; the thieves, the vagabonds, the street orphans and the ne’er-do-gooders. 

Today the only visitor besides himself was a tall, very pale man with a severe standing still problem. 

“There you are!” the man said in a cheerful voice, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “You’re late,” he chided, his tone no less cheery. 

“You didn’t meet me at the agreed upon place,” Dark accused. 

Sakon giggled. “Soldiers have been hiding in the market district lately. Had to dodge ‘em. Much quieter here, anyway. You bring ‘em?” 

Scoffing, Dark reached into his pockets and grabbed the bag he had stashed there. He put it in Sakon’s hands. The thief shook the bag, sniffed it and took a peek inside. 

“Mm. Nothing like gold,” he commented, shoving the bag in his own pocket. 

Dark held out a hand. “You owe me for last time as well, Sakon.” 

The pale thief giggled, swaying from side to side. “Do I? Are you sure?” 

Resisting the urge to grind his teeth in frustration, he said, “Yes. 100 rupees from last time, combined with the 100 for today. I had to steal those jewels from the Crowe. I’m putting my life on the line here.” 

Sakon giggled and danced up the temple steps. Dark was right on his swinging heels. 

“All right, all right,” Sakon sighed, hopping back down on the grass. “For your trouble.” He dropped a handful of rupees into the youth’s outstretched hand. Dark counted twice, holding the jeweled currency up to the light to inspect it. Sakon let out a high-pitched laugh. “No trust among thieves, hm?” 

“No trust among any of your acquaintance,” Dark insulted him. The pale man pouted. “Until next time, Sakon.” 

The jittery thief giggled, skipping away from the temple steps and disappearing between the trees. Dark stashed the money in a hidden pocket inside his shirt, patting it reassuringly. 

He decided against going back to Palardine. He briefly considered heading back to the market district and getting to work before recalling what Sakon had said about soldier patrols. Changing his mind, he retraced his steps and headed back into East Wall. A section of the barrier had crumbled away, partly from disuse and partly from residents chipping off hunks of stone to construct shelters. 

An old stairway had been gouged into the stone there, allowing the climber to emerge in a guard tower at the top. From this vantage point, he could look out across the eastern plain of Hyrule Field. 

Zora’s River meandered its way diagonally across the countryside, eventually flowing right beneath the wall and into Castle Town. Death Mountain’s dusty brown peaks jutted into the sky in the distance. His eyes settled on the cliffs standing guard at the mighty mountain’s feet. Kakariko lay somewhere inside its protection. 

He sighed with a touch of longing. He had to leave this place. And soon. Patting the secret pocket, he smiled. The time for his permanent departure was fast approaching. 

**~oOo~ **

He didn’t stop running. Going as fast as he was able, he knew he was close to the outside. Calling after him to wait up, Navi buzzed in his wake. It had been such a surreal day. Images flashed in his mind at impossible speeds, making him dizzy: The blue fairy relaying the Deku Tree’s message; Saria, smiling as she congratulated him; Mido’s jealous anger and hateful words; the monster he had faced, its claws tearing into the tree’s vulnerable flesh, its large, glowing eye fixed on Link. 

He shuddered just at the thought of it. Somehow, he had defeated it with the sword gifted to him by his guardian—a real sword! He still had it with him, along with his shield. 

Another image invaded his mind: the Great Deku Tree, solemnly announcing his imminent demise and the truth of Link’s apparent destiny. 

“Thou hast demonstrated thy courage by slaying the monster that tormented me…but I have more to tell thee.” 

Respectfully, he had listened as the Great Deku Tree had told him of Hyrule’s creation by three goddesses, and an evil man who desired the power of the gods, hidden somewhere in Hyrule. The Great Deku Tree claimed that, somehow, Link could stop the man’s evil from overtaking the land. 

“Thou must never allow the man from the desert to lay his hands upon the power of the gods…Because of his curse, I will die.” 

Guilt chewed him apart inside. He ran faster. 

“Though you slew the monster and broke the curse, I was doomed long before you started…” 

Link pushed himself faster, frustration and guilt fueling him. He should have been able to do something. If he’d been quicker, stronger…better, he could have saved his guardian. If he’d been a true Kokiri, this would never have happened. 

The great tree spirit’s final words rang in his ears as his boots pounded on the wooden bridge. Just beyond it was the outside. 

“Link…go now to Hyrule Castle. It is there that thou shall find thy destiny…Thou art Hyrule’s final hope. Find the princess of destiny.” 

He’d nearly reached the boundary of the forest. He could see sunlight spilling in through the gaps in the trees… 

“You’re leaving?” 

The question halted him in his tracks. His momentum threw him a couple steps forward before stopped completely. Turning around, he saw Saria; he’d sprinted right past her. 

Her eyes said it all; she knew he was leaving for good. He was surprised to see tears welling in her eyes when he stepped closer. She’d never been one to cry. 

“I knew…someday…you would leave our home, Link.” Her wide blue eyes didn’t stray from his face. “I know that you’re different…from me and my friends, and you feel that you don’t belong here.” 

He kept silent, suffering through her sorrowful farewell. 

Saria inhaled shakily, tears spilling out onto her cheeks. “But that’s okay, that you’re different. We’ll always be friends, won’t we?” 

Link nodded mutely, afraid to speak unless the icy mixture of sadness, guilt and grief became too much. 

Saria reached for his hands, placing a smooth, oblong object in them. “Take care of this for me,” she requested. “When you’re out there on your adventures…I hope you play my ocarina and remember me and this forest.” 

Link raised his gaze from the beautifully carved, wooden ocarina. He’d long admired Saria’s instrument. Saria’s blue eyes were filled with sadness so deep he felt the need to wrench his eyes away or be lost in her despair. 

It was too much. Link stumbled backwards a step, eventually righting himself and turning away from his childhood friend. In moments, he’d run far enough that Saria disappeared, swallowed by the forest. 

Soon, the trees began to thin, and light blinded him. It took several seconds before he realized what had happened. Over his shoulder, the tunnel-like entrance of the forest was black and sinister. Link looked away. Before him lay a path lit by sunlight, gently shaded by the last few trees. Taking a deep breath, Link followed the path, hoping it would lead him to his destiny. 

**~oOo~ **

Saria tightened her grip on the wooden bridge’s support rope. Her best friend was gone. The trees before her had greedily pulled him in, shielding him from her view. It would never be the same. The forest had changed without him. As if to mock her, an unusually cold, biting wind blew through the forest tunnel, wrapping itself around her. 

Saria shivered, eyes fixed on the place she had last seen Link. She spoke into the wind, willing it to carry her words out of the forest and into the world outside: “I hope you come back someday.”


	9. Time Cannot Erase

Something was different. The ground was becoming smoother, flatter. The heavy boughs of the trees were thinning out, allowing more light through. 

When the soil beneath his running feet was free of roots, stones and undergrowth, he stopped, observing his new surroundings for the first time. They were like unlike anything he’d laid eyes on before. 

Lush, green hills rippled out from the edge of the forest, rising and falling again and again. Sunlight bathed the land, transforming the plains into a beautiful collage of green and gold. Cradling the sun was a vibrant, gem-blue sky, polished by fluffy white clouds. 

Link gaped at the surreal beauty of the land before him. It was so vivid, so full of life and prosperity. He hadn’t expected that outside of the forest that something like this would await him. The forest was full of natural beauty and peace, and hosted the full spectrum of life. 

He had heard from the other Kokiri that the outside world held dangerous things and dangerous people. But looking at the dazzling view, it was hard for him to imagine what his friends had described. 

“Is this…Hyrule?” Link asked, still stunned. 

Navi bobbed excitedly. “Yes! This is it. The land of Hyrule, blessed by the goddesses.” 

Link shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand. “Is it all like this?” 

The fairy’s blue light blinked in and out. “No. It’s a very large country with many different places.” 

Curious, Link asked, “You’ve seen these places?” 

“No,” she replied. “The Great Deku Tree used to tell the fairies stories about Hyrule.” 

She fell silent, and Link sensed that she was grieving the loss of the forest’s guardian as much as he was. 

He decided to change the subject. “Where do we go now?” 

Navi shook herself free of her memories. “We must go north. To my knowledge, Hyrule Castle lies in that direction.” 

“And at Hyrule Castle we will surely find the ‘princess of destiny’ the Great Deku Tree told me about,” Link concluded. “Princesses live in castles, don’t they?” he asked Navi. 

She shrugged her tiny shoulders, her wings fluttering. The pair of them stepped out of the shade of the treeline, finding a worn road hidden in the grass. It curved north, leading their way to Hyrule’s capital. 

**~oOo~ **

She wasn’t often granted the chance to visit Hyrule’s capital, Castle Town, despite its proximity to her home. Still, she relished the opportunity. She laid in the back of the wagon among the wisps of straw and hefty jars, full of fresh milk, singing softly. 

The sound kept her occupied while on the road, but also ensured that her father, driving the wagon, was awake for the journey. Before too long, she heard the shouts of the town wall’s guards, and the heavy groan as the drawbridge was lowered. 

With a click of his tongue, her father urged the horses forward. The tempo of their hooves quickened, thudding against wood rather than dirt. Soon the clashing sounds of the busy marketplace greeted her ears, and she sat up in the back of the wagon. Her father halted the horses at the north end of the square, allowing her to hop out the back. 

“I’ll be back by the end of the day,” he told her cheerfully. “Take care of yourself!” 

As he trundled off towards the castle for his delivery, she waved goodbye. She was still a child, but she was used to fending for herself, and had been on her own in the market many times before. 

She wandered the square idly, enjoying the crowds. It was such a change from her life on the quiet ranch. 

“Malon!” 

She glanced up to see who had called her, and her eyes landed on a young girl waving at her by the fountain. Malon smiled and rushed over. 

“Sienna! It’s been so long.” 

The girls hugged briefly, then sat together on the edge of the stone fountain. Sienna was another reason she enjoyed visiting Castle Town. The two had been friends for a long time. 

Sienna was a young girl, a few years older than Malon, who had been orphaned like so many others during the war. Despite her misfortune, she had a kind-hearted nature and a shy disposition. 

“Where’s your friend?” Malon asked Sienna, slipping off her heavy ranch boots and dipping her feet in the fountain’s refreshing pool. 

Sienna giggled, her hazel eyes bright with amusement. “Dark? Getting into trouble somewhere else, no doubt. He’s supposed to meet me here…” 

Malon and Sienna had been fast friends, but Sienna’s oldest and closest friend was Dark. They had known each other since they were mere toddlers living at the orphanage in Castle Town. 

Sienna sighed. “He’s running late again.” 

Malon smiled reassuringly. “I’m sure he’ll turn up.” 

The other girl shook her head, her auburn curls swishing about her face. She turned to Malon. “How long are you staying?” 

“We’ll be leaving this afternoon, but we’ll be back tomorrow with another delivery,” Malon explained. “We didn’t have a big enough wagon to hold everything.” 

The girls chatted for quite a while, but Dark did not show. Giving up on their meeting, Sienna announced her leave. She didn’t want to risk the wrath of Mrs. Crowe if she stayed away from the orphanage too long. 

Malon watched her go, waiting patiently in her place for her absent-minded father to return for her. 

**~oOo~ **

Link and Navi reached the end of the road just as night was falling. As he crested the last hill, the sight before him made him stop and take a step back. 

A wooden gate…white stone…a crest carved into the stone. 

It was exactly how he remembered from his nightmare. 

Twin torches flanked the drawbridge, burning away the shadow of approaching night. His eyes landed on the crest: three triangles, upheld by a bird’s spread wings. 

“This is Hyrule Castle?” Link asked. The imposing white wall stretched as far as he could see in both directions. 

“Not yet,” Navi corrected. “Beyond the wall lies Castle Town. The castle sits just north of the town.” 

A wolf howled somewhere nearby. Link glanced over his shoulder. The rolling plains he had so admired were colder without the sun’s touch. A shout sounded from above them, and the chains of the drawbridge creaked. 

“Link, hurry!” Navi trilled. 

The drawbridge was closing. Link leaped the gap and landed on the wooden planks, rolling safely to the inside as the bridge groaned shut. At least he would be safe inside the town tonight. Who knew what lurked outside these walls when the sun went down. His Kokiri friends had spoken about all manners of beasties that roamed the outside world. 

The cobblestone street he found himself on was empty, which confused him. He thought towns were supposed to be full of people. 

“You there!” 

“Huh?” 

A man wearing metal clothes had emerged from a side street. He carried a spear in one hand, and his face and head were covered by a matching metal helmet. The front of his armor sported the crest carved into the wall above the drawbridge. 

“It’s nighttime,” the man stated. “Get inside, kid. It’s past curfew for you.” 

Link frowned, not understanding. “Curfew?” 

The guard snapped his fingers, getting impatient. “Where do you live, kid?” 

“Um…” Link looked around. The empty street held no lit windows of refuge. The guard fixed him with a scowl, taking a step closer. Not knowing what else to do, Link bolted. 

“Hey! Get back here!” 

Racing down the street, Link turned a sharp corner, losing the metal man. Down the second street, it was still dark, but there were houses on both sides. There was a diminutive shack nearby, leaning wearily against the house next to it. Link darted for its door, turned the knob and ducked inside fast as a Skullkid’s disappearing act. The guard, still shouting, ran straight past. 

Link leaned against the close door and heaved a sigh. Navi, who had hidden in his hat the moment the soldier appeared, floated around the room. 

“It’s some kind of storehouse,” she announced, locating the torches on the wall and lighting them with a wisp of her magic. 

With the small room illuminated, Link could see it was made entirely of stone, and contained a variety of crates and clay pots. Definitely not someone’s house. 

He sat down on a low crate, deciding that it would be alright to spend the night here. It wouldn’t hurt anyone, and although the metal man outside hadn’t seemed very malicious, there was much Link did not yet understand about the outside world. 

The box wasn’t as comfortable to sleep on as the forest floor, but in the absence of a warm bed it was better than the cold floor. Even so, he passed the night fitfully, the images from his old nightmare haunting his sleep. 

*********

The next morning, Link could hardly contain his excitement. A clamor of strange new sounds had awoken him—a small taste of what the town would be like. 

The meager belongings he opted to bring with him rather than stash in the storeroom. So far he hadn’t been discovered, but the owners could come by for a check at any time. 

With Navi safely under his hat, his sword and Deku shield strapped to his back, Link left his sanctuary. 

Avoiding the drawbridge, Link ventured further east, following the white stone wall. As he ambled along, passersby eyed his bright green clothes, so different from their plain, practical shirts and trousers. Navi commented from inside his hat, mostly tidbits of information she’d gathered from the Great Deku Tree. 

Aside from the wall, which slowly slid into worse and worse decay, the streets were lined with humble shops and small homes, none over two storeys tall. There didn’t seem to be any organization to the street layout, which was oddly comforting. Link was used to the twisting green passages of the forest, and the dusty grey alleys reminded him of home. 

Swallowing a lump in his throat at the thought of the forest, he forced himself to listen to Navi’s voice. 

“Sorry, Navi, what did you say?” 

“I don’t think the Castle will be found in this area. We should head north.” 

With his acute sense of direction, Link turned down a side street, passing loiterers and other shady characters. Within a few minutes he emerged into a bright, open, green space, and his heart leapt. 

There were trees everywhere, sprouting from beds of bright flowers and gently swaying grasses. The paradise appeared to be deserted, so Link excitedly darted through the rows and over the beaten-in dirt pathways. 

A stone building, bigger than any he had seen so far, bloomed into view between the trees. 

“That must be the castle!” Link exclaimed, making a beeline for it. 

He hopped up the stone steps, wondering what the identical shallow glass pools on either side were for. His hopes were dashed when the heavy door wouldn’t open. 

“There’s no one here,” Navi pointed out. “No soldiers. This might not be the castle.” 

Link sighed, disappointed. He looked up at the tall, pointed building. It had a strange calm hovering over; it coexisted with the natural scenery as if it had sprung from the earth rather than been built. 

Turning away from the mysterious building, Link felt a distinctive shiver climb up the back of his neck. The courtyard was no longer empty. 

There, by that tree. He spun, catching the eyes of a small figure watching him curiously from the second row of trees. 

“Hello?” he called. He hurried down the steps, anxious to ask someone more knowledgeable about this peculiar place. 

The figure retreated. “Wait, come back!” he shouted, peering around the tree’s wide trunk. 

The person, clearly a child like him from the height, was covered in a long, dark shawl despite the warm day. Hesitantly, they turned to face Link. 

Link’s eyes flew wide. A girl around his own age stared back at him from under the shawl. She pushed it back, revealing short, golden blonde hair and long, pointed ears. Her eyes were deep blue, just like his. 

Link was too stunned to speak. There was something so wondrously familiar about her face, in her eyes, that his heart ached to recall memories long lost in the river of time. 

The instant felt more like a long-awaited reunion—one that made his head whirl. 

“Hello,” she murmured, eyes dropping shyly. 

Link opened and closed his mouth, searching for words. Her voice…where had he heard that voice before? 

“H-hi…” he replied lamely. “I’m Link,” he added, thinking that politeness might go a long way in the outside world. 

The girl smiled widely. “What a strange name,” she said. She laughed. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude…just, it sounds familiar…” she trailed off. 

“I know what you mean,” he said, glad he wasn’t the only one feeling it. “What’s your name?” he asked. 

Her smile dwindled. She hesitated to answer. “Zelda,” she answered. 

Link smiled. “I’ve never heard a name like that. It’s nice.” 

Surprise turned to laughter and she clutched her sides. “You’re a very strange boy, Link.” 

He wasn’t sure what made him so strange, but it seemed to make her smile. 

“Link,” she said, her voice dropping low and her eyes widening. “Are you from the forest?” 

Link’s shock made his jaw drop. “How do you know?” 

Zelda shrugged. “I read that the Kokiri children who live in the forest wear green clothes and are always accompanied by a guardian fairy.” 

“There are books about the Kokiri?” Link gasped. 

She grinned. “Of course. Though not many. Most people think the Kokiri are a myth. And there have been so many strange things that happen in the forest. That’s why no one ventures there.” 

That bit of information was comforting. It also explained the odd looks he’d been given. 

“Do you…do you have a fairy?” 

He snapped his attention back to Zelda. “Ah…” 

On cue, Navi zipped out from under his hat. Zelda’s eyes widened in awe. 

“She’s beautiful!” 

Link grinned. “Her name is Navi. I’m guessing you don’t speak fairy?” 

Zelda giggled. “No, I don’t. There’s no books on that.” She reached out a tentative hand, letting Navi float over her palm. 

“We can trust her,” Navi announced. “But I think I’ll stay hidden the rest of the time. The outside world isn’t safe for fairies.” 

“She likes you,” Link said to Zelda, watching the blue glow of Navi’s wings play across her nose. 

“My nursemaid told me that fairies can see into the hearts of people,” Zelda said. “That fairies are the ancient spirits of our ancestors, come back to watch over us.” 

Smiling wistfully, Zelda dropped her hand, letting Navi float back to Link’s side. 

“Ask her about the castle and the princess,” Navi urged. To Zelda, her speech sounded like the tinkle of small bells. 

“Zelda, do you know where I can find the castle?” Link asked hopefully. 

Her expression froze. “The castle?” she asked slowly. “Yes…I-I know where it is. Why do you want to go there?” 

Link dug the toe of his boot into the dirt. “I need to find the princess…it’s important.” He rubbed self-consciously at the back of his neck. “I’m sort of on a quest.” 

Rather than laughing, like he’d expected, she brightened. “Really? What’s your quest for?” 

Link avoided her eager gaze. “Sorry, I can’t really say. I just know I need to find the princess at Hyrule Castle. But I don’t know what the castle looks like, and I don’t want to run into anymore of those metal soldiers.” 

Zelda considered him. “I’ll make a bargain with you, Link,” she said importantly. 

“What’s that?” he asked, curious. 

“It’s when two people both need something to complete their quest, so they agree to help each other,” she explained. “I’ll tell you how to get into the castle and past the guards so you can meet the princess, if you meet me here again tomorrow.” 

The hopeful look on her face melted Link, despite Navi’s admonishment that they needed to find the castle as soon as possible. 

“That sounds fair,” he said. “What quest am I helping you with?” 

Zelda chuckled. “You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” 

Link gave her a silly grin in reply. 

“I have to leave,” Zelda said. “I’ll be missed. We’ll meet here again tomorrow!” 

Replacing her shawl over her head, she darted back into the winding streets, breaking the spell. The neat, green courtyard suddenly seemed less bright. Link stared after Zelda’s retreating form until Navi tugged insistently on his hat. 

“We should go, Link,” she said. She clearly disapproved of his bargaining with near-strangers. 

“Okay,” he agreed, casting one last look up at the odd stone building and its serene vigil.


	10. Princess of Destiny

The wide, welcoming halls of Hyrule Castle had never been much to Ganondorf's taste. They were too bright, too open. He was accustomed to the starkly lit stone passages of the Gerudos' fortress. They were warm, protected and enclosing. 

Ganondorf's tawny eyes roamed the vaulted ceilings and the stately walls, decorated tastefully with art depicting Hyrule's history. This castle wasn't very pleasing to him aesthetically, but its sheer size and grandeur suited his personal ambitions much more than the cramped, semi-underground lodgings of his people. 

Ambition was exactly what had brought him here. As the first man born to the Gerudo tribe in a century, his destiny had long been foretold. He had seen it himself—in a glorious vision bestowed upon him by the goddesses as he meditated in the Gerudos' most sacred place. 

In keeping with his role, he'd made the long journey to Hyrule Castle Town, escorted by his most trusted lieutenants. He'd already met with the King several times to exchange pleasantries and discuss necessary business. But today Ganondorf wanted to discuss the reason he'd come so far. He would not be turned away. 

The Gerudo leader and his lieutenants were asked to wait outside the throne room. Hiding his irritation—what gave the King the right to keep him waiting?—he stood stoically, keenly observing his surroundings from the corner of his eye. 

At his side, Nabooru watched a group of Hyrule's soldiers clank past, shooting the Gerudos curious looks. 

Nabooru raised her proud chin higher, ignoring the stares. "You would think they had never seen a Gerudo before," she commented dryly. 

Ganondorf grunted. "They most likely haven't," he said sourly, glancing at his right-hand warrior. Her fingers tapped lightly on the hilt of her sword. 

It was only courtesy, he knew, that Nabooru and the others had been allowed to enter the castle with their weapons still on. The thought irked him. Gerudo warriors never went anywhere without their weapon. No one could command her to remove it. 

He watched the backs of the retreating soldiers, also knowing that seeing a Gerudo woman in the flesh was a novelty here. They seldom ventured out from the desert, both because their lands were becoming increasingly restricted and because they rarely had need to leave their home. 

That would change soon. He turned to the imposing door; just beyond it, the King of Hyrule sat upon his gilded throne. 

A minute later the doors were opened, and Ganondorf and his party were welcomed inside. After a brief announcement and the necessary pleasantries, he stepped up to the dais where the King sat waiting. 

Sinking to one knee and inclining his head, one arm crossed over his heart, Ganondorf felt an unmistakeable prickle at the back of his neck. He was being watched. 

From childhood, he had acknowledged his instinct as being far above that of any normal man. All eyes in the room were upon him, yet he knew that somewhere close by, someone unseen to him also observed him. 

He did not move from his place, though the subservient position rankled him. Slowly, he tilted his head to the left, hawkish eyes searching. There; a small stained-glass window to his right. 

Ganondorf caught a glimpse of two faces peering out at him before they vanished from the glass. Inexplicably, his heart let slip the faintest of stutters under his palm. The tickling sensation at his nape became an icy shiver. 

He looked away from the window, but the feeling did not abate. He stood up, hiding his malaise as he met the King's gaze. The monarch hadn't noticed anything amiss. Ganondorf sensed Nabooru's puzzlement behind him, but did not turn around. 

He had more important matters to attend to than those two small faces, spying on him shamelessly. 

Ganondorf conducted his business with the King, ignoring the unwavering, irrepressible urge he felt to look back into the eyes of his destiny, staring at him from the stained-glass window. 

**~oOo~ **

Link wiped his hand over the dust coating the shop window, peering curiously inside. Castle Town was a great maze, full of shops and stalls holding all sorts of interesting things. He'd already wandered into some of these curious shops, hoping someone or something could lead him to the castle. 

That morning he'd managed to rouse himself early and headed for the mysterious temple to meet Zelda. She hadn't shown up, much to his dismay. 

Heeding Navi's advice that they should work on finding the castle rather than wait for her, Link had explored. Drawn by the darkened windows and colourful decorations hanging from the roof of a fortune teller's shop, he'd gone inside. While the robed mystic woman inside had been less than impressed with Link's lack of money, she had agreed to help him find his way in exchange for some Deku seeds from his pocket. 

Turning away from the latest window he'd been looking in, Link retrieved the map the fortune teller had given him. It had been well worth it to part with a few Deku seeds. To Link they were common; to the mystic they were a rare treasure. 

He squinted at the map, ducking into an alley so Navi could peek out from under his hat without notice. "This map is more confusing than the Lost Woods!" 

Navi tutted. "We just don't know how to read it yet. Look here." She floated over the map, the glow from her wings illuminating the Hylian letters curving across it. 

"There's that funny building!" Link pointed to a miniature drawing of the decrepit old building in the courtyard—the drawing was much more favourable. "Temple of Time…" he read. "Odd name." 

The map divided Castle Town into vague sections: the east, west, and south all blended together. The area, which the map called East Wall, was a mess. The streets twisted around each other, cross over one another and turned into dead ends. No wonder he'd been so lost. 

The marketplace and the other side of the map, the West Quarter, were more organized, decorated with colourful little drawings and symbols. Another drawing, larger than the rest, drew Link's gaze. It resembled the Temple of Time, but it covered the entire northernmost point of the map. 

"That must be the castle," Link murmured in excited awe. 

"We can get there through the marketplace," said Navi, tracing a path. 

"Then let's go!" Link stuffed the map under his hat, allowing Navi to zip in after it. 

After several dead ends and running down streets that weren't on the map, Link made it back to the busy center of town. His years of experience finding his way through the Lost Woods had given him a good sense of direction. 

He located the great fountain—what use was there for that, he wondered—and spotted the north road. Link had taken only a few steps towards the castle when a musical voice called out to him. 

"Are you going to the castle?" 

A young girl, humming softly under her breath, was standing a few feet away. Her wide blue eyes took in his appearance with puzzlement. 

"You're not from here, are you?" she asked. "Your clothes…" 

Walking up to her, Link looked her over. She was wearing a simple white dress, faded from wear, and a yellow handkerchief tied about her neck. It complemented her small, freckled face and vibrant red hair. Smiling sunnily, she stood next to a small cart containing two small barrels. Stuck to these were two stickers featuring a drawing of a cow's head and the name 'Lon Lon Ranch'. 

"My name is Malon," the girl told him, seeing him take interest in her cart. "My dad owns Lon Lon Ranch." 

Link had no idea what a ranch might be, but he imagined it must be where cows came from. Occasionally, animals from outside the forest became lost in the woods; a small glimpse of the outside world. 

Malon continued, "You're one of the fairy boys from the forest, aren't you?" Her voice was high and sweet as a song. 

Link's jaw dropped. "How do you know that?" 

Malon shrugged. "My mother told me stories about the forest before she died. When she was a little girl, she went into the forest and met other boys and girls. They all had fairies by their side, and they had clothes just like yours." 

Stumbling over his shock, Link watched mutely as Malon grabbed a spoon from her cart and dipped it into the barrel. She offered the spoon to Link, full of chilled milk. 

"Here, have some," she said with a smile. 

Link took the spoon and sipped from it experimentally. "This is delicious!" 

Malon nodded. "Lon Lon Ranch has the best milk, everyone knows that." She paused, picking up another spoon. "My dad went to the castle to deliver some milk, but he hasn't come back yet. If you're going to the castle, would you mind finding him for me?" she asked. 

"Sure," he replied. "Why hasn't he come back?" 

"He probably fell asleep, as usual. What a thing to do!" 

Link snorted with laughter, choking on his milk. Malon giggled. 

"They've posted more guards up at the castle," she told Link. "Someone tried to break in." 

"I can get past them," Link assured her, thinking back to his run-in with the soldier at the gate. All that metal weighed him down, but Link was quick on his feet. 

Malon smiled gratefully. "Thanks, fairy boy! Here, take this. It will help you wake up my dad when you find him." Reaching into the pocket of her dress, she produced a small, white egg. "A cucco egg," she said proudly. "I've been taking care of this one myself." 

Link took the egg from her, examining it quizzically. "How will this help?" he said doubtfully. 

Malon took back her spoons and put them in the cart. "My dad is a very heavy sleeper. Once the cucco hatches, its crowing will wake him up!" 

Link pocketed the egg. He could feel Navi buzzing around inside his hat. He shook his head to stop her. 

"Thanks," Malon said again. "When you're finished at the castle, you should come by the ranch. We could give you some more milk!" 

"Sure!" Link agreed, waving goodbye to his new friend and hurrying on his way. 

Soon enough, the road widened enough that Link could glimpse it. Hyrule Castle loomed above him, white stone towers and battlements gleaming. Somewhere inside, the princess of Hyrule waited. 

**~oOo~ **

"Princess?" 

She tore her eyes from the window. The princess had been staring through it all morning, watching the patrols. It hadn't been her plan to miss her meeting with the boy from the forest, Link, but her attempt at sneaking out had been discovered. 

Zelda turned to face her guardian and confidante, Impa. An imperious woman, her silver hair, crimson eyes and frightful skills caused many to fear her. As the last known remaining member of the Sheikah tribe, Impa possessed abilities no other person could boast. 

"Yes, Impa?" 

"I've spoken to your father." 

Zelda's heart plummeted. She had tried to talk to her father, to warn him about the meaning behind her nightmares. But he'd dismissed their importance, thinking her dreams were nothing more than a young girl's fears coming to haunt her while she slept. 

Zelda knew what her dreams truly were: a prophecy of what was to come. 

Impa's face betrayed a hint of sympathy as she said, "I am sorry, my dear, but he will not heed my words." 

"You've done all you can, Impa," Zelda said sadly. "So long as you believe me, there is still hope." 

Impa laid her hand on the young princess's shoulder. "We should go. Ganondorf will be meeting with the king soon." 

Zelda straightened her spine and clasped her hands before her, the image of a perfect queen-to-be. 

"Zelda." 

"Hmm?" 

"Where were you trying to run off to this morning?" 

Her fingers twitched. One of Impa's gifts was her uncanny ability to detect any sort of lie or deception. 

"I wanted to meet someone," she admitted. "A friend." 

Impa didn't seem surprised. "I see." 

Reluctantly she pushed thoughts of Link from her mind. She had another mission to see to today. Still, Zelda had a strange feeling that the boy from the forest would prove to be more than he seemed. 

**~oOo~**

The situation was not going at all well for Link. He'd climbed over the gate at the entrance and slipped past the guards there. Luckily the castle was surrounded by greenery where he could hide. Unluckily, he would soon discover that when cuccos hatch, they do tend to make a lot of noise. 

The tiny egg began to wriggle, its shell cracking under the strain of trying to contain its occupant. The cucco's sharp beak punctured the shell, freeing itself by stretching its wings. Watching the miracle of birth with awe, Link panicked when the bird began to crow loud enough to wake the dead in the earth. 

A pair of guards who had been strolling past startled at the abrupt noise. Link ducked out of sight. 

He stuffed the thing into his shirt, muffling its crowing. The cucco shrieked loudly in protest. 

"Quiet!" he hissed at the newborn cucco. "You'll give us away!" 

The castle guards were getting closer, searching the bushes for the source of the noise. Link crawled on his knees and one hand, the other keeping the creature tucked in his shirt. 

When the terrain rose and he came to the crest of a hill, Link spotted more guards standing before a second gate. Just beyond it, lay the outside wall of the castle, surrounded by water. 

He looked at the guards, then back at the water. He was an agile swimmer, he could make it. The cucco clucked under his shirt, as if advising him of the foolishness of his next idea. 

"The water will take you where we need to go," came Navi's voice from inside his hat. 

Sliding down the hill, he slipped slowly into the water. It was cold, and the bird did not appreciate being dunked. It clucked irritably. Keeping one eye on the guards and one hand on the cucco, Link waded through the castle moat. Avoiding any splashing, he let it carry him around the perimeter. 

Soon enough, he could hear the unholy rumble of someone snoring obnoxiously. When he was stopped from going further by a grate, Link clambered out of the moat, freeing the now soaked and angry cucco from his shirt. A man lay beside the moat, his snores powerful enough to shake the earth. 

Link sunk to his haunches, watching the man curiously. "This must be Malon's father," he reasoned, arching a brow. 

Navi, escaping from his hat, fluttered over to him. "I'd say so." She sniffed in disapproval. 

Link eyed the cucco, who was busy searching the ground for worms. "Only one thing to do," he mused. He snatched up the bird, who squawked in alarm. "How do we make it crow?" 

Navi shrugged her tiny shoulders, her wings fluttering. "No clue." 

Link set the cucco in front of Malon's father tentatively. The bird clucked, cocked its head and observed the sleeping man, then let loose a piercing crow. 

The man jolted awake, leaping to his feet and swinging his fists. Link ducked and scuttled backwards. The cucco, satisfied, resumed its search for food. 

"What in tarnation!?" 

"Are you Malon's father?" Link asked, just to be sure. 

The man dusted off his backside with two meaty hands, then swung his head towards Link. "Aye. M' Talon, the owner of Lon Lon Ranch. Malon's my daughter. Who're you?" 

"I'm Link. Malon sent me to find you, she's—" 

"M-malon sent you?" Talon asked, suddenly nervous. "I didn't mean to make her worry about me! Oh, she's going to be right ticked at me!" With a yelp, Talon took off running. For such a beefy man, he moved swiftly. 

"Hey, Link, look at this!" 

Navi was bobbing over the moat, examining a small hole in the outside wall. Water gushed gently from its mouth, emptying into the moat. 

"A drain?" Link asked, dubious at the thought of climbing through it. 

Navi shrugged. With no better option, Link clambered atop one of the milk crates Talon had left behind, using it to springboard himself across the gap. His nimble fingers caught the edge of the drain hole and he hoisted himself up. 

It was a short and wet journey inside the castle walls. To his dismay, he found himself splashing into another fountain. He was in an area full of pruned trees and well-kept grass, more water features and handsome, white-stone pathways. 

"It's so green in here," he marveled. "And bright." 

Link followed the largest pathway, ignoring the urge to delve deeper into the courtyard's greenery. He couldn't afford to be lost. 

A handful of bored soldiers patrolled the yard, moving in predictable patterns. Link slipped past them easily, carrying Navi in his hat. When the yard opened to a set of steps and a long, white hallway, he hesitated. A second pathway arced to his right, under an imposing archway. 

The chatter of voices and metal footsteps down the hall made up his mind. A gang of soldiers rounded the corner at the far end of the hall, coming straight for him. Link ducked beneath a bush, stealing under the archway. The next room was even more strange than the courtyard full of trees and fountains. 

Circular, it was empty save for a grassy meadow, bursting with beautiful blue flowers. The ceiling went on and on, ending in a point. Soft shapes of coloured light dotted the grass, pulled from the windows set high in the walls. 

Distracted by the enchanting room, Link realized with a start that it was not empty. 

A small figure stood at the smallest stained-glass window, across the room on a stone platform. They didn't hear Link climb the few steps or approach from behind. 

"Hello," Link said. "What is this place?" 

With a muffled shriek, the girl turned, one hand clutched over her heart. Link froze in shock. 

"Zelda!?" 

"Link! You scared me!" Zelda heaved a sigh. "How…how did you get past the guards?" 

He took in her appearance, stunned. She was wearing a white and purple dress today, with gold hanging from her shoulders, neck and waist. Her hair had been secured under a matching bonnet, and the front of her dress bore the same symbol he'd spotted above the gate to Castle Town. 

"I...I'm sneaky," he offered with a shrug, recovering. Zelda let out a shaky laugh. "Why are you dressed like that?" he blurted. 

She flushed crimson. "Link," she said, "please forgive me for not meeting you this morning, and for keeping my real identity hidden. When I saw you at the Temple of Time, I thought…well, that can wait. Allow me to properly introduce myself: I am Zelda V, Princess of Hyrule." 

Link gaped at her. "Are you really the princess?" She smiled nervously in reply. 

Navi freed herself from Link's hat and buzzed around excitedly. "You're the one the Great Deku Tree wanted us to meet!" 

Link tilted his head. "My guardian told me to find the princess," he explained, waving a hand at Navi. "He wanted me to give her this." He pulled the Kokiri's Emerald from its pouch on his belt and held the gem out to her. 

Zelda's eyes went round as she accepted it. "You have the spiritual stone!?" At his puzzled look, she continued, "There is a legend passed down within the royal family of three magical stones, kept safe by the races of Hyrule. It is said that these spiritual stones are the keys to the Sacred Realm." 

Link's face lit with understanding. "The Great Deku Tree told me about that. During the Creation, the Goddesses created the Sacred Realm as a way between their world and ours." 

"Yes! The Sacred Realm is the doorway between worlds. The very spot where the Goddesses left our world," Zelda said with a smile. 

On the other side of the window, a voice shouted a handful of words. Zelda spun with a gasp, tugging on Link's shirtfront to bring him hunched next to her. 

She put a finger to her closed lips, then pointed through the window. They crouched, heads together, watching the scene play out before them. Link couldn't see much of the room beyond, but guards lined the walls like living statues. 

Suddenly a very tall man appeared and bent to one knee, looking up at someone Link couldn't see. The man did not move at all, but a peculiar feeling slid down Link's spine. Abruptly, the man turned his head and stared straight at the pair of them. 

Zelda gasped and drew back. He scrambled backwards, but for a second he'd met the man's eyes, and the haunting image of his gaze burned itself into Link's memory. 

"His name is Ganondorf," Zelda murmured, sitting now with her knees drawn up to her chest. "The leader of the Gerudo tribe, far to the west of here." 

Link knelt beside her, Navi floating silent at his side. "He feels…bad." Link frowned. He wasn't sure how to put into words the feelings of fear and dread that had washed over him. 

Zelda clenched her fists in her lap. "I've been having dreams of dark clouds that gather on the horizon and then sweep over the land of Hyrule, consuming everything in their path." She took an unsteady breath, as if the memory itself caused her distress. 

"I am always unable to stop the destruction." She whispered now, and Link strained to hear her. "But in the dream, I look towards the forest, and a bright, shining green light appears to chase away the darkness. At its center is a boy, followed by a fairy. He carries this stone in his hands." She held up the emerald, glowing mysteriously. 

Link's brows rose. "When you saw me at the Temple, you knew who I was." 

"Yes," she admitted. "I thought you might be the one from my dream. But I didn't want to scare you, so I didn't tell you. I'm sorry." 

He laid a hand on her shoulder. She blinked in surprise. Standing, he offered her a hand up. 

"That man in there…" Link trailed off. 

"I believe he represents the dark clouds from my dream," she said. "I know it is really a prophecy of a darkness that is coming to Hyrule. I tried warning my father, the king, but he won't listen to me." Zelda grimaced. 

"If the king won't listen we have to stop him!" Link said. Navi nodded in agreement. "We can't just let Ganondorf destroy Hyrule." 

Zelda's face brightened with a smile. She clasped Link's hands in both of hers. He felt his own face redden. "Link, will you help me?" she asked. "I know how much I am asking of you, but I believe destiny has brought you here. We must find out what Ganondorf is up to and stop him before he brings ruin to Hyrule." 

The silent plea in her expression urged him to believe her. The final words of the Great Deku Tree had been of a terrible threat to Hyrule, and they echoed in Link's head now, confirming her story. 

Link met Zelda's eyes. "I believe you." 

She seemed to collapse with her relief, and she let go of his hands. His fingers were warm where she'd touched him. 

"Thank you," she murmured. "I wish I could tell you more, but the hour is late and my father is expecting me." She held out the emerald for him to take. He stowed it safely in his pouch again. "I promise we will meet again." 

Link smiled, pleased. "Should I meet you at the temple?" 

Zelda shook her head. "I have another way. First, let my attendant guide you safely out of the castle." 

She gestured behind him; Link turned and yelped in shock when he saw a woman standing there. She'd easily crept up on them. 

Tall and quite muscular, the woman sported silver hair that was pulled back sharply from her face. Her features were imposing, but her smile was friendly. 

"This is Impa," Zelda explained. "She knows about everything. You can trust her." 

Link resisted taking a step back. Impa's hawk-like eyes, their irises a strange scarlet, fastened on him. 

"You're a brave one, aren't you, lad?" she said. Impa uncrossed her arms from her chest, the movement making the metal armour she wore clink. "Come on, I'll show you the way out." 

Link and Navi followed behind the imposing metal warrior woman, but he couldn't help but glance back. Over his shoulder he saw Zelda, still standing next to the little, colourful window. 

As he watched her, bathed in multi-coloured shafts of light, he again had that strange feeling of remembrance. He couldn't help but think that they had shared this moment before. Yet no matter how hard he searched, there was nothing but hazy glimpses. Nothing but dreams of a time long past.


	11. Keys to the Sacred Realm

So wide was the ceiling of leaves of the Great Deku Tree, the Kokiris' ancient guardian spirit, that it blocked out the sky. 

For years, Link had first thought that the sky was green, not blue. 

The branches that sprouted from its trunk were large enough to be mature trees themselves, twisting and twining upwards to create a crown of foliage. The guardian of the forest had been a living, breathing figure. A father to all the children he watched over. 

Now he was still and fragile as the deadwood littering his forest floor. 

Link's dream played in reverse. 

First the Great Deku Tree was there, but gone. Then he spoke in a heavy, tired voice of Link’s destiny and that he must reach Hyrule Castle in order to stop the evil desert man, the one who had cursed Link's beloved guardian. 

Then Link was in a dark, dry place. The living flesh of the tree around him was brittle, unhealthy. The sticky-dampness of cobwebs caught at his clothes. An enormous shadow scuttled in the din, swiveling to fix her unblinking green eye on Link. 

The dream blurred and faded. It reappeared with a flash, taking him back through the battle with Gohma, the monstrous spider whose infestation had killed his guardian. 

The images of his close calls with Gohma whizzed by, ending with the fatal shot to her glowing green eye with Link's slingshot. 

Gohma's eye turned crimson and she let out a screech of pain. The eye transformed into an orb of dark magic, crackling in the palm of a nightmarish figure. 

The dream ended, as always with the agony of being struck by the dark energy, and the man's laughter echoing in Link's head. 

He woke clammy and shivering on the storehouse floor. The state of his blanket told him he’d thrashed about in his sleep. He swept aside the images that threatened to leak into wakefulness and gently prodded Navi awake. 

The thought of breakfast made his stomach twist, so Link gathered his things and headed back to the Temple of Time. The way was familiar now. 

Zelda’s fair head was easy to spot. She huddled on the steps with her knees against her chest, waiting for him. 

With a cheerful smile, she rose at Link’s approach. “I was worried you’d be late again,” she giggled. “Sleepyhead.” 

Link blushed and scratched behind his ear. “I don’t like mornings,” he mumbled. 

Zelda tsked in perfect imitation of a mother scolding her child. “That won’t do if you want to stay ahead of Ganondorf.” 

“Does he only plot his evildoings in the morning?” Link teased. 

They both laughed, but it quickly subsided. Both knew the seriousness of their mission, but somehow amusement always found its way into their conversations. Link also found the world’s impending doom easier to handle if he could make jokes about it once in a while. 

“We should get going,” she said, all business again. 

Link and Zelda had met here every morning for the past three days. They’d then snuck into the castle’s vast library to research the Spiritual Stones. Link had crammed so much Hyrulean history into his brain he worried it would burst. 

“Wait,” Link said. “Will you tell me more about this temple?” 

Zelda looked up at the faded stone sentinel. “I don’t know much about it,” she confessed. 

“Who built it?” 

The question made her smile at his naivete. “Lots of people worked together to build it. But the person who decided what it would look like was a man named Rauru. He was one of the Ancient Sages.” 

“Sages?” Link said, puzzled. 

“People who possess great strength of character and wisdom,” she explained. “They helped guide Hyrule towards peace and prosperity. A legend states that there were six sages in the past age, and that they built special temples like these all over the world.” 

“Your world has a lot of legends,” he commented. 

She laughed. “I suppose we do.” 

Zelda had already told him the story of the world’s Creation, a version which differed slightly from the one told to the Kokiri. She’d gone over the many stories about the mystical Triforce and its powers. 

Link couldn’t really picture a godly relic that was supposed to grant the one who possessed it unlimited power and any wish they desired. He thought it strange that three golden triangles would simply be floating somewhere in Hyrule, waiting to be caught. 

“That’s funny.” Zelda had walked up to the formidable doors of the temple. “It’s sealed.” 

“So we can’t get in? That’s too bad.” Link scowled. He’d been curious to explore the inside. 

Zelda shrugged. “We have to focus on the Spiritual Stones, not the temples. The stones are said to be the keys to the Sacred Realm. If we find them, we can find the doorway, unlock it, and protect the Triforce from Ganondorf.” 

Link pulled the Kokiri’s emerald from his pocket and held it in his palm. “Ganondorf killed my guardian just for this. So he would have a way into the Sacred Realm to snatch the Triforce.” 

Zelda, hearing his sadness, put her hand on his shoulder. “It won’t be in vain, Link. We can stop him from hurting anyone else.” 

Link frowned. “We don’t even know where the other stones are.” 

She smiled. “We have the castle library. Knowledge is all we need.” 

Link nodded. “It’s too quiet in there,” he stated. “It’s even quieter than the forest is at nighttime.” 

She laughed again. She had a nice laugh, Link decided. 

“Well, why don’t you tell me stories about the forest while we work. I’d love to hear about your home.” 

“Okay.” The thought of home made his heart clench, but he ignored it. Perhaps telling his new friend stories would ease the homesickness. 

Zelda offered her hand and Link took it, pocketing the stone again. Confident in their mission, they set off for the castle, hand in hand. 

**~oOo~ **

The mission would be a success, Dark was sure. He would not fail. 

He’d checked and rechecked every part of his plan. His intelligence included knowledge of the patrols executed by the town guards every night, the fastest and safest way to the East Wall, and the best spot to climb over it. Sakon’s movements had also been sketched in his notes. Dark had a fair idea of the town’s criminal element by now. 

Sienna crouched next to him, watching him squint at his scribbles. “It’s still so risky,” she said, her small face pinching in a frown. 

“We have to take the chance,” he countered. “Do you want to stay here forever?” 

“No,” she relented. “But I don’t like how you’re getting money for us. It’s dangerous.” 

Dark shrugged off her concern. “I do what I have to. It’s no more dangerous than it will be getting from here to Kakariko by ourselves.” 

Sienna’s eyes popped wide. “You don’t think we’ll be attacked, do you?” 

He shook his head. “We’ll be okay. I almost have enough money. I just have to do one more job with Sakon and we’ll have enough.” 

“Another job?” She rose up on her knees, planting her hands on her hips. “Dark, you can’t! You’ll get caught!” 

He shifted on the floor, rolling up his plans and shoving them under his bunk. Orphans at Palardine didn’t have any toys or trinkets. Only a few had mementos that they hid away from Mrs. Crowe and her beady eyes. 

“I’ll be careful,” he promised Sienna. “If I don’t this it will take twice as long to get the money we need.” 

Sienna hunched her small shoulders. The pair of them had already tried to earn money in respectable ways; but no one wanted to hire a pair of kids. 

“Okay,” she agreed. “But please, Dark, be careful.” 

**~oOo~**

Meditation was a poor substitute for sleep. But he could not rest. Even allowing his eyes to shut took great effort. He’d lashed himself for his weakness, of course. Of all the things to fear in the world, a bad dream was the most irrational. 

_Fool_, Ganondorf chided himself. _It is but a dream; a mental obstacle easily overcome_. Though his body remained rigid with practice and dedication, his mind refused to quiet, and at long last he abandoned his attempt at meditation. 

Opening his eyes, he ignored the slight relief he felt at seeing the torches flickering in the four corners of the room. The shadows of their flames danced across the sand-coloured walls of the tent, giving off warmth and security. Disentangling from the meditative position, he stood and stepped off the rug, stretching his cramped limbs. 

His eyes had closed for only a second, but when he opened them a sharp flash of blue greeted him. Startled, he reached for the only weapon allowed in the meditation chamber—a ceremonial dagger tied to his hip. His fingers clenched the finely carved handle before he realized what he had seen was not real. 

The cold blue color was not present. His stiff fingers released the dagger back into its sheath. Fool, he thought again. The dead cannot harm you. 

Meditation had its downsides, as it tended to unearth old memories he had long since buried. The memory of the lowly soldier with the deep blue eyes was one of them. He had killed the man with his own hands, and yet the ghost of that soldier, Naron, relentlessly haunted him. 

Ganondorf’s strange episode in the throne room today had rattled him. The unease he still felt, coupled with the rage he harbored towards the king, made him restless. 

During his meditation, he’d been unable to delve back into his memory and pull out his brief glimpse of the ones who had been watching him. Instead, he was greeted with images of Naron, his cold blue eyes searing him. 

The soldier had been the only one to successfully wound the Gerudo leader during the Unification War. It had once been prophesied that the same man would be Ganondorf’s undoing. 

The prophecy cannot come to pass, he reminded himself, teeth clenched, when Naron has been dead these many years. 

The physical relaxation granted by his meditation had withered. He rubbed his temples slowly, trying to ease the tension of his mind and spirit. It did little to help him, so he promptly extinguished the torches and exited the chamber, leaving his ghosts to dwell in the dark. 

In the Gerudo camp, all was quiet. The sentries stood at their posts, unwilling to bend to boredom. The guards lounged around the cooking fires, talking softly. 

He left the meditation tent and walked straight to the leader’s tent, acknowledging the nods of his people as he passed. Ganondorf pulled back the flap of the tent, unsurprised to see Nabooru already inside. 

“Some other solution, perhaps?” she commented, reaching for a bottle of spirits on the table and tossing it to him. 

Ganondorf uncorked the bottle and drank deeply. “Nothing,” he growled. “The gods hide their knowledge from me.” 

Nabooru shrugged. “Try again when your mind is clearer. Less clouded by anger.” 

Ganondorf set down the bottle none too gently and braced his hands on the table’s study surface. “My anger is not the problem,” he murmured, his eyes roving the map of Hyrule on the table. “It’s the Hyruleans that are the problem.” 

Nabooru grunted, flicking her ponytail off her shoulder. He traced his finger over the lines marking Hyrule’s territory. After the war, they now dissected former Gerudo land, pushing his people further into the unforgiving desert. 

Their people had learned to coexist with the wasteland in their backyard, but Ganondorf’s anger stemmed from the fact that the Hylians were now in charge. The treaty for peace had been signed by him reluctantly, but they simply hadn’t been able to match the combined might of the Hylians and their allies. 

His eyes flicked to the north and east, where a red ‘x’ was painted over the former village of the Sheikah. At least that plague was all but gone. He suspected some had survived the massacre. 

“What of the stones?” he asked Nabooru, his mind turning back to his plan. It helped to focus on something productive. 

“A group of us returned, but the tree was already dead. He no longer had it.” 

He cursed. “Did we lose anyone in that forsaken forest?” 

“One,” she admitted. “We didn’t stay long.” 

Rubbing his temples with his thumb and forefinger, he sighed. “Send Aalrian to the castle tomorrow morning as my ambassador.” 

Nabooru’s red brows rose. “You’re going to Death Mountain yourself, then?” 

“They need to know how serious I am,” he grunted, reaching for the bottle again. “If I must look upon that smug, so-called king’s face once more I will ruin our plans.” 

Nabooru watched him take another deep sip. “You intend to go through with it, then?” 

“Of course,” he snapped, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “The war did not end for me simply because the rest of Hyrule has what they want. My people are still treated as outsiders. We are still demonized. Our home has been ripped away from us. I will take it back.” 

“We don’t know that it even resides here in Hyrule,” she said skeptically. 

“It’s here,” Ganondorf countered. “I have seen it. My destiny is to use the power of the gods to remake Hyrule.” 

Nabooru remained silent for a long moment. “Allow me to go in Aalrian’s place,” she offered. “Take her with you. Perhaps I will have more luck negotiating.” 

“No need to negotiate. Placate him; make him believe we are interested in peace. It will make betraying him much easier.” 

“Yes, my lord,” she murmured. 

Nabooru crossed her closed fist over her chest and bowed gracefully. She exited the leader’s tent without a backward glance. Ganondorf watched her leave, her long red ponytail swaying against her back. 

Turning away, he pulled a chair up to the table and bent over the map once more. Sleep wouldn’t come tonight, so he banished his lingering uneasy thoughts with the promise of his coming destiny.


	12. Village of the Sheikah

Hyrule was much bigger than he'd thought. 

It was wide and open; not like the forest, Link decided, watching the bundles of fluffy whiteness float across a blue canvas. The sky alone would take him eons to explore. 

Link settled his arms behind his head in the grass. Everything Zelda had told him about the lands that made up Hyrule had fascinated him, too. It would take several lifetimes to see all the places she'd described to him. 

He rolled onto his belly, flipping his gaze from the clouds to the tree whose shade he was borrowing. It was a hot day, made all the more strenuous by what he'd come to know as "work". 

After two weeks spent cooped up in Hyrule Castle looking for answers, Link had missed the outside. Agreeing that Link's quest for knowledge lay in the outside world, Zelda had bid him good luck and dived back into her books. 

Link and Navi had eventually wandered to Lon Lon Ranch and reunited with Malon. She had been happy to see him again, and her father had been only too happy to house him for a while provided he earn his keep. 

Life as a ranch hand was not as easy as he'd expected, but it wasn't boring, at least. 

Malon and her family knew nothing about the Spiritual Stones save for legends, Link comforted himself with the knowledge that he was earning a bit of money. Talon had also rewarded him with a lantern and some oil, a sleeping roll, a cooking pot and utensils, and other trinkets he'd said would come in useful.   
The grass around Link rustled, and snort came from above his head, ruffling his hair. He sat up, unsurprised to see a filly with a chestnut coat and a white stripe on her long nose. 

"Hello, Epona," Link said to the little horse, who snorted again and pranced off. 

"She can be like that," said Malon, who had been following the moody horse. She sank to her haunches next to Link. 

Together they watched Epona gallop around the ranch's yard gleefully, enjoying her freedom. Malon tucked her knees against her chest and started to sing a song with no words; a sweet and yearning melody that carried across the grass to the young filly. 

Epona, ears pricked, immediately turned and cantered back to Malon's side, allowing the girl to stroke her coat. Link watched in fascination. 

"The song is my mother's composition," Malon explained. "She never finished it, but I like it that way. Horses don't need to talk to tell us things." 

Link understood the sentiment all too well. The Kokiri had long believed in keeping a harmonious relationship with all living things, human or not. Tentatively, he reached up to pet Epona's gleaming coat. She whinnied and galloped away again. 

Malon stifled a giggle. "Why don't you try singing to her, fairy boy?" 

Link shrugged. "I don't really sing."

Navi, who had been floating around the ranch as happily as Epona had been tearing through it, zipped down to his side. "Why don't you play Saria's ocarina?" 

Malon eyed the instrument Link retrieved from his pocket with curiosity. "I haven't seen an instrument like that in a long time," she said. 

"It was my friend Saria's," Link replied. "She lives in the forest." 

Thinking of Saria caused a pang of grief, so Link raised the ocarina to his mouth and played a few experimental notes, banishing the memories of his friend that threatened to overwhelm him. 

Malon didn't push; it was something Link liked about her. Malon understood the powers that words could not express. 

She began to sing again, letting Link follow her lead on his ocarina. Soon enough, his fingers found the right notes, and the harmony they created caused all the horses grazing in the ranch yard to lift their heads. 

Epona sauntered back to them, swishing her tail side to side. Her eyes were inquisitive, searching for this new source of music. 

The horse lowered her head towards Link, then bent her knees and lay down beside him, content to listen. 

Malon's voice faded out, and Link lowered the ocarina. Epona laid her head down and closed her eyes. 

Malon smiled sideways at him. "I think Epona likes you, fairy boy." 

**~oOo~ **

Link spent just over a week at Lon Lon before he received a letter from Zelda. 

He was been working in the yard, feeding and watering the horses, when Lon Lon's old ranch hand, Ingo, stomped up to him. 

"Letter came for you this morning, kid," he grumbled, tossing the envelope at Link. 

With a scowl, Link watched Ingo trudge off, a pitchfork bouncing on one of his bony shoulders. He'd never liked Ingo. The ranch hand only had complaints and bellyaches coming out of his mouth. He was also careless with the horses, which Link thought was a bad sign of character. 

He was quickly realizing that people in Hyrule were not like the Kokiri. Even Mido, the meanest of the bunch, wasn't as mean as some of the Hylians Link had met. Malon had assured him that not everyone in Hyrule was bad. She managed to find good traits even in Ingo. 

Tearing open the letter, Link read it and stuffed it into his pocket. Without pause he rushed to the barn and climbed into the loft, where he'd been sleeping at night. He gathered his things and the collection of items Talon had given him, throwing them into his rucksack. 

As he clambered down from the ladder, he ran right into Malon. 

"Are you leaving, fairy boy?" 

"I have to," Link explained. "Zelda asked me to meet her in a place called Kakariko. It's important." 

Keeping his promise to Zelda, Link had kept his explanation of his quest vague when Malon had asked. Of course, Malon was willing to help anyway. 

"I know that place!" Malon grabbed Link's arm and hauled him out of the barn and to the main house. "Dad and I can take you there. It will be much faster than walking." 

They located Malon's father, who graciously agreed to do Link one more favour for all his hard work. 

The next morning they bid a grumpy Ingo goodbye and piled into the cart. The journey would take half a day, Talon said, but Link and Malon entertained themselves by sitting on the back of the cart tossing rocks in the road and swapping stories. 

Around midday they arrived at their destination. It was close to Castle Town, Link realized. But by far the most prominent feature was the huge mass of rock that rose above the settlement, blocking out the sky. 

"It's a volcano," Malon leaned over to explain, seeing Link's wonderment. "It's dormant now, but it used to explode!" 

At his wide-eyed panic, she went on to explain the mysteries of volcanic eruption and the formation of mountains. Link decided that Death mountain, as the peak was named, did not seem like a very hospitable place. 

Still, as the cart trundled through the quiet village, nestled in the foothills of the imposing mountain, he saw Kakariko was quite populated. 

Talon and Malon dropped him off at the Kakariko Inn. Link said a few last goodbyes and promised to visit again soon. Malon gave him a quick hug, which embarrassed him. His reaction made her giggle. 

"So long, Link." Talon tipped his hat. "Good luck." 

"Thanks!" Link called, waving to Malon until she and her father disappeared from his sight. 

Alone again, with Navi hiding under his hat, he decided to have a look around. 

Unlike Castle Town, Kakariko didn’t seem to be organized into sections. There were also no streets; just dirt and grass. Most of the houses and buildings here were made of wood, too. 

He found his way by following hard-packed trails that served as roads and simple wooden signs that told him where to find landmarks. 

Eventually Link meandered to the north end of town. Up on a hill overlooking the village, he could see a tall, round stone building. It looked like one of the castle’s towers, but it had four large blades attached to the front, spinning slowly around and around. 

Zelda had described it to him in her letter. Kakariko’s windmill. Below it, she wrote, was a well. Link was to meet her there. Link ran over to the well, another circle of stones at the base of the windmill, and looked inside. Far below, there was water. 

Link climbed onto the edge and sat down, idly observing the surroundings while he waited. 

To his left was a large house with a cucco coop nestled against its back. A red-haired woman stood in the pen, tossing feed to the cuccos. Down the road was a grumpy old man with a moustache shouting at a group of men working on a new building. To his right a couple of guards loitered in the shade of an awning. A mother and her child passed by the well, leading a cow that nibbled happily on some thistles. 

It was a quiet, simple place. The kind of place where you didn’t notice the time passing. 

“We meet again.” 

Link jumped out of his skin at the sound of Impa’s voice next to him. Only her quick reflexes saved him from a tumble down the well. 

“Princess Zelda sends her regrets,” she informed him, getting right down to business. “She was not able to leave the castle without notice.” 

Link hid his disappointment. Impa handed Link a second letter. 

“Take this to the guard at the gate to Death mountain trail,” she told him. “Zelda is positive that the inhabitants of the mountain have the second stone.” 

Link pocketed the letter and glanced up at the peak in the distance. “Who would live there?” he asked, disbelieving. 

An actual smile flashed across Impa’s face. “A race known as the Gorons. Their leader, Darunia, is a friend of mine. Tell him you were sent by the Royal family.” 

Link was still wondering what sort of people would choose to live on a hunk of rock that might explode at any given moment. Impa frowned at him. 

“You should find a proper shield,” she remarked, seeing his wooden Kokiri’s shield tied to his back. She turned and pointed to a little road that snaked into the foothills behind the village. The sun bounced off her armour. “Head that way. You’ll find what you need.” 

Impa took three steps backward, raised her arm high and snapped it down. A sharp snap and flash of light blinded Link. When he could see, Impa had gone. 

"How did she do that?” Navi wondered, poking out from under his hat. 

“I don’t think Impa is a regular Hylian,” Link said, stunned from the disappearing act. 

Link wasted no time following the trail Zelda’s mysterious attendant had pointed out. He was eager to find the second Spiritual Stone and return to see Zelda. 

The terrain swelled behind the village, eventually rising into grassy hills and cliffs. Following a plant-infested trail that snaked along the base of the ridge, Link came upon a wooden gate, like the one at the village entrance. 

It protected a fenced area that rose in tiered shelves of dirt and grass, dissected by worn walking paths. Many trapezoid stones in varying states of age dotted the yard. 

Link knelt to examine the stone monument at the entrance. “What is this place?” 

“This the graveyard,” a voice mumbled behind him. 

Link spun around. He yelped when he saw the face of the voice’s owner. His chin jutted out too far, his brow was prominent and stern, and his nose was flat between two wide-set brown eyes. His head was hairless, and he had no eyebrows. 

“Who’re you!?” Link said, startled. 

“M’ Dampé, the grave digger,” the man said in his slow, mumbling voice. He lifted the heavy shovel he’d been carrying on his shoulder, his features softening somewhat as he looked down at Link. “I look scary, but I’m a nice guy.” 

Still wary, Link straightened from his defensive crouch. Dampé shuffled past him, his muddy boots scraping the ground. The grave keeper moved at a snail’s pace due to his hunched back. He wore only fade brown overalls with patched knees, and a gray undershirt. 

“Don’t mess around with the graves!” he warned Link. “It’s my job to look after them, y’know?” 

Link sauntered after him, catching up easily. “Mistress Impa told me to come here,” he explained. “She said I needed something here.” He frowned, wondering what he could possibly find in a graveyard. 

Death was not unfamiliar to the Kokiri. It was rare, but sometimes the children of the forest chose to pass on. There were no graves, however. They simply returned to the forest. 

Link shuddered at the idea of being buried in the earth after death. He tried not to think about what lay under his feet. 

“Mistress Impa?” Dampé repeated, brightening. “She’s always kind to me, she is. Any friend o’ hers is a friend o’ mine.” 

“I’m Link.” 

He offered his hand to Dampé, remembering some of the basic manners Zelda had taught him about Hylian society. With a surprised look, Dampé took the youth’s outstretched arm, clasping forearms in the usual greeting. 

Dampé gave him a lopsided smile and waved his shovel at a tiny building in the corner of the yard. “Why don’t you come in for some tea?” he offered. 

Link hurried to open the door for the slow-moving Dampé—another bit of politeness—and studied the small home with interest. His new friend set a kettle to boil on the rudimentary cooking fire. 

“Do you live alone?” Link asked Dampé. 

“Yes. It’s not much—make yourself at home.” 

“It reminds me of my home in the forest.” Link smiled and sat on the bed. 

“Forest kid, huh?” Dampé chuckled. “That explains a bit. Thought there were no more of you left.” 

“There’s lots of us,” Link replied. “But I had to leave.” He paused, his momentary homesickness evaporating under guilt. 

The grave digger nodded solemnly and took the kettle off the fire. He poured a cup for each of them and handed the bigger cup to Link. 

“I had to leave my old home, too,” he said, his frightening face drooping with sadness. 

They sipped in silence for a few moments. Link changed the subject, telling Dampé briefly of his quest, and his need to travel up Death Mountain. 

The keeper’s prominent brow furrowed and he scratched his chin, deep in thought. Then he rose from the stool he sat on and bent to reach under the bed. He pulled out a heavy chest, which he opened to reveal more patchy clothes, a broken lantern, a spare shovel and other tools, and a large object wrapped in cloth. 

It was this object that Dampé handed to Link. Uncovering it, he discovered it was a large shield made of metal. 

“Whoa,” he murmured, studying the design. The front of the shield was diamond-shaped, silver and blue, and depicted a red bird, crowned by three golden triangles. 

“That’s a Hylian soldier’s shield,” Dampé explained. “From long ago. Sometimes when I’m diggin’ I find things. I polished it up a bit, so it should do the job. The mountain’s a dangerous place for a little fella like you,” he chuckled. 

“I can really use this?” 

“Of course.” Dampé smiled again, slightly lopsided. He peered over his shoulder at the lone window. “You’ll have to stay here for the night, though. It’s getting late.” 

The sky had indeed begun to darken with rainclouds. The bad weather started soon after Link and Dampé were enjoying their supper. It didn’t bother him. He found that it was nice to tell Dampé about his good memories of the forest to ease his homesickness. In return, his new friend entertained him with stories of the home he had left when he was young. 

Before long Link could no longer ignore his yawns. Dampé insisted that Link sleep in the small bed while he slept on a bedroll on the floor. Too tired to object, Link laid down and took off his hat for Navi to sleep in. 

While the grave digger’s snores soon filled the little house, Link found himself starting at the Hylian shield he’d propped against the wall. It’s silver edging shone in the moonlight creeping through the window. 

Eventually he drifted off, dreaming of the unknown soldier who had once carried the Hylian crest on his shield. 

>b?~oOo~ 

Rain was falling in thick sheets now, and thunder rolled in the skies. 

The sound was deafening, yet somehow Sakon’s ridiculous, gleeful giggles could be heard above the storm. Dark ground his teeth together, irritated beyond words with the thief’s antics. 

He and a handful of other thieves—Sakon’s followers—had gathered on a rooftop in the Upper Quarter to case their target. A large, stately house stood on the other side of the road, its windows dark. 

Sakon’s plan was quite simple. As a group, they would sneak around back and climb an ivy-covered wall to the second floor. From there, they would slither down the hall to the gallery, where the house’s owner apparently kept all his priceless artifacts. 

Exactly how Sakon knew all this, he wouldn’t say. Dark sighed and pulled his hood further over his head. 

In the road below, a pair of guards had stopped the chat; the reason for their delay. 

Sakon seemed to sense his impatience. He nudged Dark in the side with his elbow. “Hey,” he whispered. “Slip on down there. You’re sneakier than the rest of us.” 

“I’m not risking it all by myself,” Dark countered with a glower. 

Sakon giggled and reached into his pocket. From it he withdrew some small, brown nuts. 

“Deku nuts,” he explained, shaking them in his fist. “Work even in the rain!” 

With a whoop, he tossed the nuts into the street below, far away from the manor they intended to rob. The series of loud pops gave off as they hit drew the guards’ attention away, and they rushed to investigate. 

Dark hoisted himself over the roof and slid down the pipe they’d used to climb up. Darting to the side of the house, he paused to catch his breath and check that the guards were occupied. 

He reached the ivy wall and started climbing. The rain didn’t help things, so it took longer than he thought. Reaching the second floor, his next task was to pick the balcony door lock. 

Crouched under the lock, he hovered his palm over the keyhole. He hadn’t practiced using magic much in his time at Palardine House. The last time his big brother had been teaching him how to make sparks dance across his fingertips. 

Summoning his gift, he felt the distantly familiar tingle as the magic traveled through his veins. It followed his will to the center of his palm, manifesting in a small burst of light which struck the keyhole. 

Grinning at his success, Dark turned the knob and slid inside the manor. An empty hallway stretched before him, its walls lined with fancy-looking art and other decorations. 

Ignoring those, he sprinted on light feet to the first door he came to. He managed to summon another orb of light to see by, when a flash of gold caught his eye. 

Straightening, his eyes landed on a painting on the wall. It was a portrait of a young woman; her golden hair had flashed in the light of his magic. 

Curious, he held his hand higher, looking closely at the blonde hair, the kind blue eyes, the smiling mouth. 

Dark’s eyes blew wide. It was unmistakably the same face that he sometimes dreamt of. Younger, maybe, but the same. He’d dreamt of them often lately. 

He stumbled back in his shock; the orb flickered and went out. Without thinking, he turned and charged back down the hallway and through the unlocked balcony door. He nearly fell climbing down the ivy wall in his haste, but he didn’t care. 

Dark had reached the street when he heard shouts and more sharp pops. The guards had spotted Sakon and the others. 

“Hey, stop right there!” 

Dark twisted out reach of a guard and made a run for it. Unfortunately, the rain had soaked the cobblestone streets, and he slipped easily. 

The soldier caught up to him, pinning Dark where he’d fallen and jerking his arms behind his back. 

“Get off!” Dark shouted, struggling in vain. 

“You’re under arrest, boy,” the man growled, hoisting Dark onto his feet. 

Dark felt the cinch of ties around his wrists and gritted his teeth. It was no use; he was caught.


	13. Heart of Fire

The guard looked over the top of the letter at him again, his brows creasing in bewilderment. 

Link scowled. The guard must have read Zelda’s letter a dozen times already and still wouldn’t let him pass. If Link didn’t climb Death Mountain he couldn’t find the second stone! 

“Er…look, kid,” the metal man finally said. “I’m not saying this isn’t Princess Zelda’s signature…and I don’t know what sort of game you two are playing.” 

“I need to go up the mountain,” Link insisted again. “It’s important.” 

“The mountain’s a dangerous place, kid. You need at least need a proper shield!” 

With effort, Link swung the heavy Hylian shield off his back. Not being strong enough to hold it up, it thunked into the dirt at his feet. 

The guard gave him a skeptical look, then shook his head. “Alright, Mr. Hero,” he chuckled. “Do what you need to do. But don’t say I didn’t warn you!” 

With another shake of his head that grown-ups seemed very fond of, he unlocked the gate barring the trail and slid it aside. Link hefted his new shield onto his back and waved at the guard before sprinting up the rocky path. 

It wasn’t long before Kakariko became nothing more than an outline of red and blue rooftops in the valley, and the guard was gone from sight. Even so, it took Link most of the day of hiking up the uneven and rocky terrain before he reached the halfway point. 

The dusty brown peak of Death Mountain rose still higher above him. Link wondered if the mountain’s top sat higher than the sky itself, since it pierced the cloud cover. 

His curious musings were interrupted when the ground started shaking. Confused, Link spun in a circle, trying to find the source of the sudden earthquake. Was the mountain erupting!? 

A large and odd-shaped boulder came barrelling around a bend in the trail, headed straight for him. Before Link could move out of the way, it jolted to a stop next to him. 

Link grabbed the Kokiri sword off his back. To his shock, the boulder moved, unfolding into stocky arms and legs, a round head and bulky body. 

The boulder turned to Link, wide brown eyes blinking at him curiously. Link took an uncertain step backwards. 

“Hello,” the boulder spoke, freezing Link where he stood. 

“What are you?” Link asked. 

Rather than be offended, the boulder’s wide mouth grinned, showing large, rectangular molars. “I’m a goron,” it said. 

“I’ve never heard of a goron.” Link frowned. 

“Really?” The goron tilted its round head to the side. “Why are you wearing green? Not a lot of Hylians wear green.” 

“I’m not a Hylian! I’m a Kokiri!” 

Warm brown eyes lit up. “A Kokiri! Here? Oh, this is so exciting!” The goron started to jump up and down in his joy, causing the earth to tremble under them. 

Navi, jostled out from under Link’s hat, surveyed the bouncing goron. 

“They’re the inhabitants of the mountain,” she explained, her fairy senses providing her information. “One of the races of Hyrule. They’re friendly, and quite close with the Hylians and the Royal Family. They also eat rocks.” 

Link’s head snapped to Navi. “They eat rocks!?” 

The goron had stopped jumping. “You must go to Goron City,” he told Link. “Elder Darunia will be so happy to see you!” 

With another show of his tombstone teeth, the goron curled up again and rolled off down the mountain. Perplexed, Link watched him roll until Navi tugged on his earlobe. 

“This way,” she said impatiently. 

Following the trail, they soon came to the gaping mouth of a cave. In front of it was a wooden gate with a faded banner over it, painted red with symbols Link couldn’t understand. 

The blackness of the cave soon melted away as torchlight further in illuminated the way. Soon enough he was in a massive, surprisingly bright underground chamber. It was noisy, too. The sound of many more gorons rolling around echoed off the walls. 

The home of the gorons was divided into rings, all rising at different levels from the bottom of the main chamber. From these levels, several tunnels snaked off further into the belly of the cave. 

Spotting a downward-leading set of stairs etched into the rock, Link made his way through the maze-like tunnels and levels until he found the bottom. The temperature had spiked, and he wiped his brow with the back of his hand. 

Navi huffed. “It’s so hot in here!” 

A couple of gorons stared at Link curiously as he passed by, but didn’t stop him. He approached one of them, unsure what to say. 

“I was told to look for Elder Darunia?” he tried, stumbling on the unfamiliar name. 

Gorons all looked remarkably similar, though some had eyes that were further apart, and some were different heights. The shortest of the gorons who had gathered around him perked up. 

“Are you a messenger of the Royal Family?” he asked. 

Link breathed a sigh of relief. He passed Zelda’s letter over. A murmur of excitement swept through the crowd of watching gorons. 

“To the Elder!” the short goron rumbled. 

Pushed along in a mass of marching boulders, Link was brought into a second chamber on the bottom level. This one was quite small and rectangular, and very sparsely furnished. Aside from a few tables and chairs, the only thing there was a large statue of a goron, chiseled out of the rock wall. 

In front of the statue stood the largest goron Link had seen yet. Unusually tall, with a muscular frame and coal black eyes, the goron wore a fierce expression on his grim mouth. His wild white hair that sprouted from his head and chin in angry spikes aided his intimidating aura. 

“What’s this?” the big goron grumbled. 

If regular gorons could shake the room with their happiness, this goron could bring down the mountain with his grumpiness. 

“He’s a messenger from the Hylian Royal Family!” one goron piped up. 

“He brought this, Elder Darunia!” another said, offering Zelda’s letter. 

Darunia took the letter in one meaty fist and scanned it with his beetle-black eyes. He grunted and tossed it away as if it were worthless. 

“I’ve got bigger problems,” he grumbled, looking down at Link. “Goron problems,” he emphasized, making a shooing motion with both giant hands. “Beat it, kid.” 

“What’s wrong?” Link asked. 

Link couldn’t tell if the look that crossed Darunia’s stone face was surprise or incredulity. 

“We’ve had a poor harvest of bomb flowers, dodongos have returned to our caverns, and to top it all off, the entrance has been sealed! We’ve been unable to eat the tasty rocks inside and we’re going hungry!” 

He finished his angry outburst by crossing his massive arms over his chest and glaring down at Link. 

The angry huff the Goron elder let out and his posture stirred a comparison in Link's mind. Whenever Mido was angry, he would cross his arms and huff the exact same way, even tap his foot or stick out his bottom lip in displeasure. 

He reached for Saria's ocarina and brought it to his lips. Saria's Song was a simple but infectious tune. It had always worked to calm down Mido. 

The playful, mysterious notes of the song echoed around the stone chamber. The gorons around Link began to sway, eventually raising their stocky legs and stomping their feet in time. 

Glancing up, he saw that a strange fit had overtaken Darunia. The massive goron was leaping from one foot to the next, his mane flying as he danced about the room with his arms raised. The smile on his broad face was wild. 

Darunia's dancing was enthusiastic enough to shake the ground beneath Link's feet. He hastily stepped back from Darunia's flying limbs. 

As the song faded, Darunia stooped to catch his breath. 

"Whoo! What a good beat! Just like that...all my worries disappeared." His shrewd eyes landed on Link. "Hey, kid! You really want to help my people?" 

"I want to save Hyrule," Link said. "That's why I need the Spiritual Stone." 

Darunia exploded with laughter. "The Spiritual Stone?! You think I'm just going to give a little kid like you the Gorons' Ruby?" 

Link shrugged. He didn't see why not; he needed the stone to save Hyrule. 

Darunia finally realized that Link wasn't laughing. He inhaled deeply and said, "Look, if you're so eager to prove yourself, why don't you destroy the monsters inside the Dodongos' Cavern? Then I'll think about it." 

Link stashed the ocarina, beaming. "Alright! Where's the cavern?" 

The boss of the gorons shook his head in disbelief. "The entrance is sealed, but we can fix that with some bomb flowers." Darunia shot Link one last look, sizing him up. "I hope you're ready for what lies in that cavern, kid." 

Link managed to lift the Hylian shield from his back before he dropped it to the ground. Darunia sighed and pulled a large gold ring from his finger. He tossed it to Link; it was much too large for his hand, but it fit comfortably on his wrist. 

"That should help," Darunia told him. "That way even a lil' fella like you can lift our bomb flowers. You'll need them." 

At Darunia's order a pair of gorons escorted Link back through the many rings of the city. As they climbed one level after another, Link watched the daily life of the gorons with fascination. 

Unlike the people of Castle Town, they were all friendly and welcoming. They didn't find it odd for a Kokiri to come visit them. They seemed to spend their days mining, smithing and eating, as far as Link could tell. Their simplistic way of life appealed to him as it reminded him of the Kokiri. 

The gorons were also fans of music and dancing. A few of them asked to hear Link play his ocarina once more or offered to play music for him. Whenever he stopped to talk with a goron, Navi tutted impatiently. Link's goron escorts weren't bothered at all, however. 

When they at last reached the city's exit, it was sunset. Having spent the whole day inside the home of the gorons, Link blinked in the sudden change of light. Despite their cavernous dwelling, the city was well-lit. 

Link and his companions followed the mountain trail until they reached the enormous boulder blocking the mouth of a cave. 

"This is it," one goron rumbled, tapping his fist against the huge rock. 

"We'll clear the way," the second goron told Link, curling into a boulder. "Just wait!" 

The pair of them rolled back up the path, leaving Link and Navi standing before the cave. A minute later, a round, dark blue item dropped from the sky and landed in front of the rock. 

"What is that?" Link asked, bending down to inspect it. The thing looked like a very fat flower blossom, with tiny leaves decorating the crown. 

"Link, get back!" Navi trilled. 

Link leapt out of the way as several more of the flowers rained from the sky. A faint fizzling sound came from them, and soon they began to expand. Link flung the Hylian shield off his back and thrust its point into the dirt. He crouched behind it just before the blasts of the bomb flowers went off. 

In the cacophony of explosions and falling rocks, Link heard the two gorons call down from the cliff above. 

"It's all clear!" 

"You can go on in, now!" 

Navi, still shaking, poked her head out from behind the shield. Link swung it back onto his back and picked his way through the remains of the boulder. The entrance of the cavern stretched wide and black before him. 

Retrieving the lantern Talon had given him and lighting its wick, Link tied it to his belt and reached for the hilt of his Kokiri's sword. He walked on and on into the cave until its consuming darkness swallowed him whole. 

~oOo~ 

The Crow's face was tightly drawn. Her stern mouth pinched, her hawkish eyes narrowed, her cheeks pressed in. She was displeased. 

In all the years Dark had lived at Palardine House, he had seldom seen more than three expressions on Ms. Crowe's face. The first was her habitual, neutral look which made her look stern. The second was exasperation. The third was the unpleasant one she wore now. 

“Come,” she commanded, barely sparing him a glance before she turned sharply and walked away from him. 

He knew she expected him to grateful for springing him. Spending the night in a cell hadn't been the most exciting experience of his young life, but it was still preferable to spending it in the Crow's company. 

They stepped out of the guard outpost—one of a dozen in Castle Town that was used by the town's soldiers to conduct business and hold small-time criminals—and took a left. Palardine was only a few streets away. 

At her usual brisk pace, Crowe trotted down the road ahead of Dark. He wandered after her, aimlessly kicking at loose stones. 

“Should have known,” Crowe muttered to herself. “Knew you were trouble.” 

She sighed and shot a narrow-eyed glance over her should to ensure he was still following. Dark ignored her. 

“Thieving!” she suddenly spat. “No wonder,” she added, pinning him with a nasty sneer. “Considering your background.” 

Dark ground his teeth together until he felt his jaw crack. He felt like spitting in her stupid, pinched face. The disgust in her eyes made his blood boil under his skin. 

Luckily they reached the orphanage before she could make any more comments. She unlocked the front door with the heavy key she kept on a chain around her neck, then held open the door for him. He marched inside without looking at her, intending to go straight upstairs. 

“Hold it.” She let the door slam closed, then seized him by the shoulder and spun him to face her. “You are not to leave the house for any reason. You are not permitted in the yard. You will serve in the house's kitchen until you have repaid me and learned your place.” 

Crowe barely kept the calm level of her voice. Dark twisted out of her grasp, ignoring her tight-lipped fury, and headed for the staircase. Other kids hung out of their doors as he passed each landing of the house, some curious, others snide. 

“Have fun spending the night in a cell, halfer?” 

Dark turned his head at the sound of the voice. It was Treyan, one of the other kids around his age. His entire family had been killed in the war. 

“Shut up,” Dark snapped. 

Treyan came out of his room and joined Dark on the landing. “Better get used to bars,” the other boy taunted Dark. “It's nothing less than what a Gerudo-halfer like you deserves.” 

Dark wound up and punched Treyan square in the face. A collective gasp came from their audience. The boy reeled back, his nose spurting blood. Too shocked to hit back, he touched his fingers to his face and stared at the blood there. 

“Dark!” Crowe had arrived on the scene. 

Her displeased expression had morphed into outright rage. Her hand whipped out and caught Dark on the side of the face. Her nails left marks on his cheek. 

Dark refused to let her win. He stared back into her hateful face, willing her to feel how much he despised her. 

Crowe took a step back, then diverted her attention to Treyan. She sighed heavily. “Let's get you downstairs,” she said. 

Crowe took Treyan by the shoulder and escorted him down the stairs. One by one, the other kids slipped behind their doors and shut them. Dark, alone in the hall, looked towards his door. 

He didn't go inside. Instead, he climbed to the top level of the house and walked to the door at the end of the hall. It was here, in a seldom used storage closet, that there was a ladder leading to a trap door. It was this little secret that let him out onto the roof of Palardine. 

Scooting across the roof to his favourite perch, Dark sighed and wrapped his arms around his knees. At least it was quiet up here. Castle Town was just waking up; he could hear doors opening, windows squeaking open, people calling out. 

Dark lost track of time as he watched the sunrise over the faraway peaks of Death Mountain. He was used to the noise and bustling of the town, but some days he longed for a bit of peace. 

“You're so predictable,” Sienna said from behind him. 

Over his shoulder he saw her climb through the trap door to join him. “You've probably heard all about it,” he replied, going back to his brooding. 

“It's all anyone can talk about at breakfast,” she confirmed, sitting next to him and tucking her legs under her. She handed him a bowl full of porridge and a spoon. 

“Thanks. How's Treyan?” 

Sienna gave him a sympathetic look. “Your tone tells me how genuine your concern is.” 

Dark snickered. “I'm more curious than anything.” 

“He's fine,” Sienna said, to his disappointment. “Just a bloodied nose. But he's milking it, of course.” She shook her head and rested her chin on her palm. “What a little brat.” 

He laughed. “You sound like a disappointed mom,” he teased. 

Sienna turned her hazel eyes on him. “What did he say to make you hit him?” 

“Nothing,” Dark growled, pretending to be more interested in his porridge. He felt her eyes drilling into his skull. “Fine,” he relented. “He called me a halfer.” 

The look she gave Dark made him turn away. Sienna had stuck by his side even as the other kids started to learn words like “halfer” to fling at him. Her best guess from her many books and his description of his parents from memory had led her to conclude that his father had been at least part Gerudo. That hadn't stopped others from assuming he was a half-blood. 

Living in Castle Town, they'd overheard more than one prejudiced conversation. Hylian relations with the Gerudo had been tense for years, and they'd hit an all-time high recently. 

“It doesn't matter,” Dark said. “It won't happen again.” 

“...You won't hit Treyan again or he won't insult you again?” 

Dark scoffed and set down the bowl. “Neither. I'm never going to see Treyan again.” Sienna's brow knitted with confusion. “I'm leaving Palardine,” he explained. 

“You mean...permanently,” Sienna said. 

He nodded. “As soon as I'm able. I have everything I need except for one thing.” 

“What's that?” 

He looked back to the fuzzy gray outline of Death Mountain and replied, “Revenge on Sakon.” 

~oOo~ 

"Watch out for the lava pits, Link!" 

"There's lava pits everywhere, Navi!" 

Navi tsked. Link wiped the sweat from his brow and planned his next move. He hopped over to the next rock that looked stable. 

Dodongo's Cavern turned out to be a gigantic maze of either mining tunnels or treacherous, lava-filled rooms. This one featured a giant rock pillar surrounded by smaller rocks and platforms Link was currently using to move around. 

Aside from being lost, the only problems Link had encountered were keese and baby dodongos. The biggest threat the tiny, armless and legless reptiles had posed was the fact that they blew up after being stabbed. 

Link shrugged the heavy Hylian shield off his back, letting it thunk to the ground. "This place is so frustrating!" 

Navi fanned her face. "And hot," she complained. "How can you carry that shield around?" 

Link pulled his cap off and messed up his hair. "My Kokiri tunic helps. Can't your fairy senses tell you anything?" 

"They have their limits," Navi replied, her wings vibrating with irritation. "Come on, we should keep moving." 

He slung the shield back on and leapt over the next lava pit onto a larger slab of rock. A godawful screech echoed through the room. From a nook high up on the central pillar, two greenish shapes leapt down. 

Jerking back, Link found himself face to face with two giant lizards. They stood on their hind legs and moved with surprising agility. 

"They're lizalfos!" Navi winged around Link's head frantically. 

The closest lizalfos squeaked; Link cringed. Gripped in the lizard-monster's talons was a wicked sword. How a lizard could wield a sword, he didn't have time to wonder before the nasty-looking blade was slicing at his face. 

Link ducked and rolled away. The sword bounced harmlessly off his Hylian shield. Enraged, the pair of lizalfos screamed and slammed their swords into Link's shield while he huddled underneath it like a turtle. 

"What are you doing?" Navi screeched. 

"Staying alive!?" Link shouted back. 

“Aim for their bellies!” 

Peering out from under his shield, Link watched the dimwitted lizards hack uselessly at him. Seizing a chance, Link gripped the Kokiri sword and thrust it upwards into the beast’s unprotected abdomen. 

Rearing back in surprise and pain, the lizalfos dropped to his back, dead. The second one leapt out of the way of Link’s next stab, squeaking angrily. Throwing its head back, a plume of fire billowed out of its open mouth. Swinging to Link, it aimed its deadly breath his way. 

Scrambling to hide behind his shield, he was relieved to find that it withstood the fiery attack. When the beast once again drew close, Link dispatched it with another well-aimed swing. 

With the lizalfos dead, Link passed through the lava-filled cavern into a blessedly cooler one. By far the largest he had seen, it contained what looked to be the skeletal remains of an enormous dodongo. Its skull took up most of the space, its mouth hanging open in an eerie grimace. 

“Through there,” Navi whispered. “I can feel the monster’s energy.” 

“You want me to go into that thing’s skull?” 

Creeped out, but knowing he needed the stone that Darunia possessed, Link walked towards the dead dodongo. Through its gaping mouth was another chamber, completely bare. 

“What the--? Where’s the monster?” Link spun in a circle. 

Without warning, the ground beneath him cracked open and crumbled away. Startled, Link fell through the floor, landing unsteadily a short distance below. This cavern was completely covered in lava, save for a strip of rock along the edges of the room. 

More concerning than the lava, though, was the absolutely gigantic boulder moving towards them. 

It lumbered forward on all four, its diamond-shaped head swinging low to the ground. Its hide was scaly and greenish-blue, its talons as big as Link. The giant monster opened its mouth in a roar, showing off its double row of sharp teeth. 

The king of all dodongos reared back onto its hind legs, dropping back down with so much force it made his teeth chatter. The beast’s white, glowing eyes lasered on him. 

Then it charged.


	14. Search for the Third Stone

A column of fire punched through the air, leaving a scorching trail in its wake. As the flame died out, the huge dodongo let out a roar. Its enormous feet stomped the heat-hardened earth and it began to pace. 

Link, having leapt out of the way and onto a large boulder sitting in the lava pit in the nick of time, peered from behind his Hylian shield. The shield was a good defense against the heat and fire, but Link’s Kokiri sword was no match for the beast’s thick hide. 

While Navi flitted around the dodongo’s head, no more than a pest to him, Link searched for another option. 

Raising his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, his eyes caught the glint of gold on his wrist. The bracelet that Darunia had given him glowed in the heat, the Goron insignia stark black. 

With another bellow, the beast let loose another breath of fire across the pit. Link huddled behind the shield, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck raise. 

Unable to either reach Link or roast him, the monster growled and paced back and forth on the safe ground. It seemed loathe to get closer to the lava where Link was hiding. 

Link searched the bare room, his practiced eyes lighting on the only speck of green. There, in the corner, was a nest of green leaves. At their center, a bomb flower. His eyes lit up, remembering the awesome, explosive power of the flowers. The trick was, how to reach it before getting fried into cinders? 

“Navi! Distract him! I have an idea!” 

Before she could protest, Link hopped back onto ground, running to the opposite corner from the dodongo. Seizing the root of the flower, he pulled it free with the help of the magical bracelet’s strength. Victory in hand, Link ran as close as he dared to the beast and hurled the explosive flower at him. Bouncing off the scaly skin, it nonetheless detonated in the dodongo’s face. 

When the smoke cleared, the monster looked completely unimpressed. 

“It didn’t work!” Navi called unnecessarily. Link groaned. 

Curling into a tight ball, much like a goron, the dodongo charged Link. With a yelp, he turned and sprinted away. He was thrown off his feet by the force of the beast crashing into the wall. The dodongo unfurled itself and shook its head. Its jaws opened for another fire breath, revealing a cavernous throat. 

Link grabbed another bomb flower and threw it blindly, suddenly wishing he hadn’t agreed to help Darunia. 

“Link, the bomb!” 

Before the monster could fire at Link, the bomb flower shot down his throat, stopping him in his tracks. The creature’s belly rippled as the bomb detonated inside its stomach, and it howled in pain. 

Disoriented, the dodongo stumbled around, shaking the ground beneath Link. It lost its footing and tumbled into the lava pit, shrieking as the extreme heat penetrated its tough hide and cooked it alive. 

Navi floated over to inspect it. “Is it dead?” Link asked. 

The thing’s scaly foot twitched and Link nearly retched. 

“It is,” Navi said. “This must be another of Ganondorf’s creatures, like Gohma.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“It’s filled with vile magical energy. It might have been an ordinary dodongo, once,” Navi explained. 

Link glanced at the dead monster encased in lava. “So Ganondorf did all this?” 

“I suppose so,” Navi replied, shrugging her tiny wings. 

Link frowned. He was sure that Ganondorf had done this to the gorons purposefully to force them to hand over their Spiritual Stone. How anyone could starve and endanger a wonderful tribe like the gorons, he didn’t know. 

His task finished, the pair climbed out of the cavern and navigated their way back to the entrance of the mine. Outside, the sun had risen in the sky. After being in the caves, its light was blinding. 

“I have to admit, I’m surprised. That doesn’t happen often, kid.” 

Darunia’s booming voice startled him. He spun around to see the Elder standing behind him, arms crossed, a smile on his face. 

Darunia stepped forward and patted him until Link’s knees gave out. “Well done, kid! By Din, this is going to make one heck of a story!” 

Recovering from Darunia’s praise, Link stood up. “Why did that big dodongo show up?” 

The chieftain looked down at him. “It was Ganondorf. The leader of a desert people far to the west of here. He asked me for the Spiritual Stone.” Darunia scoffed. “When I refused, his followers caused the dodongos to multiply and grow bigger and fiercer than ever before. We couldn’t stop them from overtaking the caves and keeping us from our food source.” 

A frown wrinkled his stony brow before he lightened again. “But that’s all gone now, thanks to you!” He thwacked Link on the back hard enough to make Link stumble. “I like you, kid! Anyone who risks their life for the gorons is our friend for life. Whaddya say you and I become sworn brothers?” 

Before he could ask what a sworn brother was, Darunia raised his beefy arms and a brilliant red light flash before him. When it faded out, the goron held in his giant palm a beautiful red gemstone encased in gold. 

“For you,” Darunia chuckled, seeing the amazement on Link’s face. “You earned it, kid. If anyone can keep our ruby safe from Ganondorf, it’s you.” 

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, looking up at the goron’s intimidating face. 

Laughing, Darunia shook his wild mane out, his eyes glinting. “How about a big goron hug, brother? I know the others want to say thanks, as well!” 

As if on cue, two more gorons dropped from the cliffs above and crashed next to their leader. Uncurling, they stepped towards Link, arms outstretched and smiling. 

Link had some idea of how painful a hug from a goron might be. Taking a step back, he turned and ran, Darunia’s gleeful cackles following him all the way. 

~oOo~ 

Dark was beginning to hate people who smiled too much. 

Sakon's oversized grin was bad enough. The mask salesman's cheery smile was downright eerie. 

"See anything you like?" The salesman asked, wringing his hands together. 

"Er, no," Dark muttered, looking away from the masks lining the walls. 

Most of the masks were brightly coloured, carved to resemble the faces of various animals and creatures. A few were meant to be caricatures or characters. The newly opened shop was meant mainly for entertainment, but he'd heard a rumour that the weird salesman also had a few more useful items. 

"Looking for something in particular?" 

The salesman spoke with a soft, high voice. He seemed to be laughing with every word, almost mocking. 

"Something to help me pass unnoticed," Dark said, grimacing at a Gerudo-inspired mask. 

"Ahh," the salesman hummed. He turned sharply, his long, violet coat whirling. 

As he rummaged behind the counter, the door of the shop swung open for another customer. Dark, busy trying on a moblin mask, glanced back in curiosity. 

The strangest boy he had ever seen stood there, dressed all in green. He also wore a sword and heavy shield on his back, which was unusual. 

The mask salesman popped into view. "Welcome!" He trilled. 

The boy in green jumped in surprise. "What is this place?" He asked. 

Dark groaned. Eagerly, the salesman plunged into his explanation. Once he finished, he continued his search. The boy in green began to look around, trying on masks. 

"You might like this one," Dark suggested, tossing one to the other boy. 

He caught it, looking at the yellow, fox-like face with interest. "What is it?" he asked, his voice muffled behind a Goron mask. 

"A keaton," Dark said. "They look sort of like foxes, but with more tails. They're hard to catch, but it's supposed to be good luck if you do." 

The boy just shrugged and tried it on. He laughed at his reflection in the mirror. 

"Why are you dressed like that?" Dark asked. 

The keaton-face turned towards him. "I'm a Kokiri. We all dress like this." 

Behind the counter, the salesman had stopped his rummaging. Dark's eyebrows rose. 

"A Kokiri, huh? Thought that was just a legend." 

"Here you are!" The salesman interrupted. He bounded from the behind the counter, smile as oily as his slicked back hair. 

Dark looked at the mask he offered. It was the ugliest one he'd seen yet, featuring mismatched eyes and a drooping mouth. "How is that supposed to help?" 

"The Stone mask," the salesman said, "allows the wearer to pass by without a second glance. No one will notice you." 

"What's your price?" Dark growled. 

The man giggled. "No price. Just bring it back once you're done with it." 

Suspicious, Dark took the Stone mask, stowing it in his satchel. "Alright," he muttered. 

With a too-big smile, the salesman bid him farewell, dismissing him. Rankled, Dark grabbed the door, looking back to see the kid in green was now talking to the salesman, who was rocking on his heels and wringing his hands again. 

There was something strange going on, but Dark had other things to do. 

He left the shop, putting the creepy shopkeeper and the weird Kokiri kid from his mind. Before he left for Sakon's hideout, he needed a little test. 

He retrieved the mask and held it in his hands, moving to stand in the middle of the road. The crowds swarmed around him. Most didn’t pay him much attention. A couple gave him a second look but kept walking. 

Resisting the urge to get snarky, he pulled the mask over his face. A strange thing happened. Rather than circling around him, people started to run straight into him. When they inevitably collided, they would look around in confusion, never making eye contact with him. 

“Hey!” he shouted, waving his hand in one man’s face. “Watch where you’re going!” 

The man shrugged and kept walking. He hadn’t even seen Dark. He took the mask off; someone apologized for bumping into him. 

The mask worked. Dark grinned. It was time to find Sakon’s hideout. 

~oOo~ 

Zelda stared at Link’s face, her brows drawn in confusion. “What is it?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. 

Link grinned underneath the mask. “It’s called a Keaton,” he said gleefully. “I got it at that new mask shop!” 

She smiled back, and the action made her eyes glow. He was grateful the mask covered all of his face for it turned red. 

“Can I try it on?” she asked eagerly. 

“Sure.” He bit back some giggles as she slipped it on, squinting to see through the two eye-slits. Breathless with suppressed laughter, he slunk around her side behind her. 

“Link?” 

Link leapt forward and prodded her in the ribs, tickling her sides. Zelda shrieked and twisted away from him, the mask slipping off her face. 

“No fair!” she shouted, gigging as much as him. 

Laughing, Link evaded her clutching hands trying to get revenge. They raced through the courtyard, the mask forgotten in the grass. After a few moments they collapsed, short of breath. 

Zelda turned to him, holding her aching sides. “It’s been so long since I laughed like that.” She beamed. 

Link ducked his head and plucked at a few blades of grass. “Must be boring being the princess,” he said. 

“Sometimes,” she admitted, tucking her feet under her. “Princesses don’t always get to do what’s fun.” 

“We should have another day in Castle Town,” he suggested. 

Her smile faded. “I would like that,” she said, “but I’m afraid my father has put more guards on the castle.” She eyed him. “I was impressed you made it back in.” 

Giggling anew, Link sat up, cross-legged. “I have my ways,” he teased. 

Zelda’s eyebrows arched. “It’s been fun to take my mind off of things, but I have to remember my mission,” she said in a very serious, princess-y tone. 

“Oh, that’s right.” Link darted over to where he’d left his things and retrieved the Goron’s Ruby. He held it out for her to see. “I met the gorons,” he said, excitement creeping into his voice over his latest adventure. 

After admiring the stone, Zelda set it in her lap and looked back at him. “Really? I’ve only met a few. What was it like in Goron City?” 

Link told her all about his trip to Kakariko, the trek up Death Mountain, meeting the gorons and the formidable monsters in the cavern. He embellished a few details, but his obvious attempts at making himself look better made her laugh. 

Eventually, Impa appeared to send Link away, as the sun was hanging low in the sky. Zelda returned the stone to him, saying he should keep it safe. Impa escorted him safely past the guards, then gave him directions to a nearby inn where he could stay, courtesy of Impa’s friend the innkeeper. 

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Link and Zelda spent nearly every day locked in the castle’s library amid towers of books, searching for clues. 

Zelda had explained that the three stones had passed through many hands in Hyrule’s history, and their very existence had become forgotten. 

As he scanned yet another historical volume, Link thought that much of Hyrule’s history had been forgotten. There were certainly large gaps in the timeline. Not to mention it was difficult to separate stories from fact. 

He dropped the heavy tome on the stack next to him and stretched his arms above his head. “Where did the stones come from, anyways?” he asked. 

Zelda looked up from her study. Her hair was loose around her shoulders today, and messy from her running her playing with the ends while she read. 

“They were created eons ago,” she started, frowning as she recalled details. “Some believe the sister Goddesses created them, but Impa told me they were forged even longer ago from ancient fires.” 

“What’s older than the goddesses?” 

“There are more than just the sisters,” Zelda said, slamming her book shut and reaching for another. “It is believed the Goddess of Time is the mother of the three deities of Hyrule. And there is another goddess, Hylia. But very little that was written about her has survived.” 

“How come?” 

“During Hylia’s time, there were a great many wars ravaging the land. Many historical records from that time were lost.” Zelda shrugged. “We may never know more about her than the legends.” 

Link glanced at the Goron’s Ruby and the Kokiri’s Emerald, resting on a nearby table. “So who created the spiritual stones?” 

Zelda scrunched up her face again, remembering details. “Impa said…the goddesses created this world in the void. The void existed because the world that came before ours was destroyed, and that all time stopped.” 

Link tried to imagine a place where time didn’t exist. The thought was a bit chilling. 

“The Goddess of Time and—Impa calls him the Sheikah word for ‘chaos’—another god ruled over the void. Once time started to move again, the three sisters descended to create our world. Before this, Impa says Sheikan legend refers to the god forging three unique stones in the three ancient fires. She said the fires represented the spirits of the sisters.” 

“Sheikan legends sound different than Hylian ones,” Link remarked. 

“They often intersect, but yes, they are quite unique,” she replied, absently discarding another volume. “The books say the stones have always been passed down to the many races of Hyrule for protection, but then there are changes in alliances, or wars, or migrations.” Zelda huffed in frustration. 

“History is complicated.” 

Zelda chuckled. “It is that.” 

Continuing their search, they each grabbed a new pile of books, reading until their eyes grew tired and the sun’s reddish rays zigzagged through the shelves. Navi, who had been sleeping on a bookend, roused herself. 

“Link, look!” Zelda shrieked excitedly. 

Navi jumped, alarmed. Link scooted over to see the passage Zelda had been perusing. 

"When Hyrule's first Unification War broke out, the three Spiritual Stones of legend were passed from the Royal Family to its trusted friends, three members of the races who most represented the spirits of the three golden goddesses." Zelda paused, frowning as she read the next paragraph. "The three trusted friends took the stones to far-flung corners of the land, keeping them safe from Hyrule's enemies. The first stone, entrusted to the guardian of the ancient forest, was hidden deep in the woods. The second was given to the protection of Din's favourite race. The final stone was awarded to the keepers of Nayru's wisdom...." 

"Zelda? What is it?" 

She shook her head, making her short blonde hair sway. "The keepers...it's a reference to the Zora people. They must have the third stone!" 

"Great." Link stood up and dusted off his shirt. "How do I find them?" 

Pulling a folded-up piece of parchment from under her stack, Zelda unfurled a large map of Hyrule. Link gawked at it. She caught his surprise. 

"Hyrule is a big place," she said, "but far from the biggest land in our world. Here," she pointed at a large body of water, tracing her finger over the river it flowed into. "Their domain is found here. It's not too far from Kakariko, you might have to camp there for a night or two." 

"We can leave tomorrow," Link said, gathering his things. "I should leave before the guards take their nightly posts." 

"Agreed." Zelda fluffed her skirts and moved to restack the books. 

"Don't you want to keep the other two stones?" He asked. 

Her back stiffened, her face pinching in a frown. "I had more dreams while you were away. I fear Ganondorf's spies are watching me." 

Link placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I'll keep them safe. I promise." 

"Thank you." Zelda grasped his hand between both of hers. A creaky floorboard in the hall alerted them to the changing of the guard. "You should go," she whispered. 

As he turned to go, her voice calling his name stopped him. 

"Link, can I see your ocarina?" 

He reached inside his pocket and retrieved the little instrument. Taking it from him, Zelda held it up and played three notes, repeating them a few times for him to hear. 

"What's that?" Link asked, feeling his balance sway suddenly. 

"A lullaby that Impa used to play for me," she explained. "It's a very old song, passed down through my family. If you play it for the Zora, they will know that I sent you and let you pass." 

She played the sweet, soothing notes a few more times until he had memorized them, then handed back the ocarina. As she did so Zelda's hand brushed against Link's. 

"Link." 

He lifted his eyes to meet hers. Her concerned expression smoothed into an assuring smile. 

"Be careful." 

Link grinned and pocketed the ocarina. "I will. I'll be back soon." 

Confident that their mission would soon be over and Ganondorf's plans would be thwarted, Link and Navi left the library. Still, as the heavy door shut behind them, Zelda couldn't shake her fears. 

The darkness that threatened Hyrule was creeping closer, despite their efforts. She feared nothing could stop the events that had been set in motion. 

Zelda carried her books to the wide window, with its view of Castle Town's peaked rooftops. The setting sun had slipped behind them, bathing the town in bright, red light. 

The prophetic dreams she continued to have raced through her mind, preying on her uncertainty. She was sure of it; Hyrule's future was nearing a turning point.


	15. A Sinking Feeling

It was the early hours when a lone horse and rider galloped through the fortress gate, nearly throwing its guards off their feet in a whirlwind of dust. 

The rider dismounted, tearing the veil from her face as she turned and shouted at a nearby guard to rouse the king. 

Minutes later, Ganondorf was striding into his reception chamber, still in his bedclothes. It was a circular room, lit by torches and bare save for the king’s chair. Not so much a throne but a high-backed wooden chair. 

The rider bowed low, holding her closed fist to her heart in a sign of respect. 

“My lord.” 

“Report,” he grumbled, dropping into his chair. “Did Darunia give up the ruby?” 

She straightened. “The forest boy,” she said, mindful of the way the king’s fingers curled into a fist. “Darunia has given him the stone in exchange for getting rid of the dodongoes.” 

Ganondorf made no outward reaction. The messenger tensed, holding her head bowed. A figure who had previously kept to the shadows stepped into the circle of torches. Though the Gerudo were gifted with their own brand of magic, having a sorcerer in their ranks was a great advantage. Alatar, as he called himself, had become a close advisor to the desert king. 

At the moment the man’s thin, gaunt face was twisted with rage. 

“He has defeated them?” he asked incredulously. “All of them?” 

She nodded. “I checked myself.” 

“My lord,” Alatar began. 

Ganondorf cut him off with a slice of his hand. “It matters not,” he said. “The boy now has two stones. Soon, I’m sure, he will have discovered the third.” 

Alatar growled under his breath and turned to face the window. “Little brats.” 

“Once he has them all, he’ll run right back to the princess’s side,” Ganondorf said to the sorcerer. “No need to worry, Alatar.” 

He spun around, his heavy robes, so impractical, swishing around his gangly frame. “Everything must occur according to plan. You’ve no idea the delicate balance required to—” 

“I don’t need another lecture on the future and its infinite timelines,” Ganondorf interrupted. He turned to his messenger. “Have your spies continue to watch them both. Captain Aalrian,” he called. 

The second woman in the room stepped forward. Like most Gerudo, she had vibrant red hair and deeply tan skin. Her features were typical, but her eyes were intensely topaz, almost gold. “My lord?” 

“We have little time. At first light, ready our people. It is time to begin.” 

Aalrian nodded in response. “We are ready, my lord.” 

Ganondorf stood up, dismissing his messenger and Alatar. The sorcerer, irritated at being sent off, shot Aalrian a frown. She ignored him. 

“Status?” the king asked her. 

“We have been preparing for years,” she replied with confidence. “We are ready for the battle. The only missing pieces are the keys.” 

Ganondorf heaved a sigh. “Alatar worries too much,” he confided to Aalrian. “He clings to his visions and thinks they are exact. But it is much easier to let others do your work for you and reap their rewards.” 

“You intend to let them bring the stones to you?” 

“As I said, it is easier.” 

She nodded, though his back was turned as he gazed out the rough-hewn window in the rock. The moon hung low and large in the sky, fading with every moment before the sun’s arrival. 

Ganondorf dismissed Aalrian then with his instructions. After she left he returned to his bedchamber but was no more able to sleep than he had before. 

The moment of victory drew close, he knew. He could feel it in his blood that his destiny was at hand. It kept his mind turning, preventing rest. 

Tomorrow, he began his conquest of Hyrule. And when he was finished, history would be forever altered. 

~oOo~ 

Link emptied out the contents of his rucksack onto the worn little table. His gear clattered out in a heap. Navi hovered over his head, silently determining if they had everything they needed for the trip to Zora’s Domain. 

“That’s a lot of gear,” Dampé commented, picking up Link’s slingshot to examine it. “You’re sure you have everything you need?” 

“Think so,” Link said, mentally ticking off items. The slingshot had been lying next to his bag of Deku seeds and nuts. After that was a bottle of Lon Lon milk, his lantern and a jar of oil to refill it, a bundle of Deku sticks, a hefty bag of Goron-made bombs from Darunia, and a bottle of red potion. 

The bottle was from a young woman in town who tended cuccos. She’d given it to Link as thanks for helping her catch a few stray birds. Her grandmother, a talented potion maker, had gifted him the concoction she claimed would heal any wounds. 

“The river’s a dangerous place lately,” Dampé was saying. “Lots of monsters hanging about, aye? Have you got the food I packed you?” 

Link held up the sack of provisions and the water Dampé had given him. The grave keeper smiled, his scarred face crinkling. 

“Good lad. Wouldn’t do to have you collapse of hunger on top of it all. I imagine the Princess herself would come here and wring my neck,” he chuckled. 

Link tossed his gear and food into the rucksack and tied it to his bedroll. He had everything he needed, all that was left to do was wait. He’d spent the last few days in Kakariko with Dampé, getting prepared for the journey and learning everything he could about his destination. 

He’d run into Malon and her father yesterday and Talon had graciously agreed to let Link ride with their wagon to the next village. It would cut his journey to Zora’s Domain in half. 

After Link and Dampé had a modest supper in Dampé’s hut, the sound of hooves striking dirt heralded Talon and Malon’s arrival. 

While the ranch owner stowed Link’s things in the wagon, he turned to his friend the gravekeeper to say goodbye. He didn’t know when he’d be back again. 

Dampé smiled, revealing mismatched and missing teeth. “I will miss you, little friend.” 

“Thanks for all your help,” Link said. He returned Dampé’s hug when he stooped, mindful of his crooked back. “I’ll come to visit as soon as I’m able.” 

Dampé retrieved a large handkerchief from his pocket to dry his eyes. “Of course, lad. Be careful on your way. I know your mission is an important one.” 

After their farewells, Link and Malon hopped into the back of the wagon while Talon took the reins. It was a full day’s journey before they stopped for the night. Talon stopped at a few small villages and farms to make his deliveries, while Link and Malon sat in the back, talking and playing games. 

As the sky turned burnt orange and scarlet, Talon finally parked outside an inn in a riverside village. Malon and Link went inside to pay for their rooms while Talon tended the horses. 

“So, what is in Zora’s Domain?” Malon finally asked, accepting their room keys from the inn keeper. 

“The next part of my mission,” Link replied. Malon didn’t press for more details, but she couldn’t hide her curiosity. 

“I’ve never met a Zora,” she remarked. “I wonder what they’re like?” 

“Zelda told me they’re very wise. One of the ancient races of Hyrule. She said they were great healers, and friends of the Royal family.” 

“Hmm,” Malon said. “Papa said they are quite formal. Stuffy, he said.” She giggled. “I suppose we wouldn’t get along.” 

Link laughed with her. “Hopefully they like me enough to help me.” 

“Well, you’re very likeable,” Malon told him with a grin. 

Talon returned them and ushered them upstairs. Link took the smaller room down the hall from father and daughter, stashing his things under the bed. He laid down for the night, knowing it might be his last comfortable night for a while, and wondered what the Zoras would be like. 

Zora River turned out to be a wide, winding river, with sections of fast-moving rapids and others where the flow of water was almost still. He did encounter some of the monsters he’d been warned about, but they were small pests. 

Up ahead, there was a rumbling sound that made his ears prick. He hurried across another bridge and rounded a bend. The thunderous rushing noise turned out to be a fantastic waterfall which drained into a deep pool. 

The river found its source in Death Mountain range, branching to the west to flow through Castle Town, and to the east, where it became the Zoras’ river. Link looked up to the cliffs flanking them. There was no safe way to climb up and over. 

“The entrance is nearby,” Navi said, flitting closer to the waterfall. “There’s no way to get over…I think their domain is behind the water.” 

“How do we get past?” Link wondered, watching the powerful jets of water strike the pool below, pound against the rock. 

“Your ocarina!” Navi exclaimed. “The song that Zelda taught you.” 

Fishing the instrument from his pack, Link repeated the notes of the lullaby, hoping the Zoras could hear the sound from behind the rushing water. When the music faded, the flow of water stuttered, slowed and eventually stopped. To their surprise, some magical force was holding back the river, keeping it from its descent. 

In its place, hewn out of the cliffside, was a doorway. The entrance to Zora’s Domain was open. 

~oOo~ 

He had many names. Most had forgotten he existed. Some thought him a demon. Others saw him as a force of chaos, unpredictable and uncaring of both good and evil. To those in the land of Termina, he was known as the unnamed fierce deity. Their guardian, their patron god. 

Lately his guardianship role was strongly focused on individuals. As the Goddess of Time had warned him, Hyrule was rapidly hurtling towards a turning point in its history. To protect the land, he had undertaken this mission for himself. 

He’d spent years just watching and waiting. Soon, it would become much more. 

Standing in the middle of the street, he remained unseen to the few people still out this late at night. Letting things unfold, he watched the scene unfold. 

The pale-faced thief, Sakon, slipped out of his hole: a false wall behind an abandoned stall. Sakon’s eyes shifted left and right, unaware that two pairs of eyes watched him. 

The moment the thief’s dancing feet flitted around the corner to the next street, Dark moved out of the shadows. Wearing the Stone mask, he slipped behind the false wall and into Sakon’s hideout. 

Ignoring the walls, Fierce slipped through them, an invisible observer as Dark began to ransack the hovel. 

As Dark searched, Fierce wondered if he realized what events he would set in motion. He doubted it. Not many mortals could see the future, as he could. Fewer still could understand its puzzles. 

He’d appointed himself Dark’s guardian since his birth, knowing the chain of events he would become tangled up in. Dark’s fate was tied to the turning point, same as the others. 

Dark, his pockets full of stolen coins, slipped out of the false wall and back into the street. Sakon had returned. The mask was held lax in Dark’s hand. 

As Sakon strolled along, Fierce turned his head, his pale blue eyes catching on a loose stone in the road. With barely a thought, he pried it free, guiding Sakon’s descending foot into its place. 

The thief tripped, crying out in surprise. Dark’s head shot up. He donned the mask quickly. Sakon sauntered back to his hidey-hole, blissfully ignorant. Without pause Dark slipped past his foe, sprinting back up the street. 

Fierce followed behind easily, waiting until Dark reached Palardine House. Satisfied that events unfolded as they should, he let Castle Town fall away from him, piece by piece, until nothing but the night sky surrounded him. 

The canvas of stars beckoned him. Their shining lights brought him both comfort and remorse. His self-imposed mission was of utmost importance, but it meant he could not return home as he wanted. Since he had become a god, the stars had been his home. 

When the Goddess of Time pulled him from the burning pyre of his world, she’d changed his mortal nature. He had become the protector of her new world, and all its inhabitants. 

It was his duty now to ensure those inhabitants remained on their paths. And Dark needed his guidance. 

Casting a mournful look upwards, he settled on his back. He didn’t sleep anymore, but he could rest, floating on air and watching the heavens. He needed the peace of a calm mind. 

In a few days’ time, it would all begin. 

~oOo~ 

Link didn’t receive quite the welcome he expected. As soon as he crossed through the waterfall and into the domain of the zoras, dozens of sharp spears descended to surround him. 

Startled, Link looked up for his first sight of the mysterious race. They were tall, all of them, with pale, smooth skin that ended with webbed fingers and toes. They had gills, too. And fins arcing out from their hips, elbows and knees. Their skin, which ranged in colours of blue, green, pink, silver and purple, darkened along the edge of their fins and gills. Near the centre of their bodies it faded to pure white. 

The zoras were speaking in their own tongue, their voices sharp. Link shook his head, unable to understand. 

The closest one handed his spear to one of his companions and reached up to grab his own head. Link nearly gasped when he removed the heavy helmet he had thought was the zora’s head. Under the helmet, decorated with fierce, fish-like features, the zora guard’s face was stern. 

“Hylian?” he asked, eyeing Link doubtfully with eyes that were entirely black. 

Link glanced warily at the spear tip in his peripheral vision. “Kokiri,” he corrected. “But I speak Hylian just fine.” 

The zora bent one knee so he could look into Link’s face. Aside from a short tunic around his hips and some kind of armor over his shoulders, he wore no clothing over a slender, fit physique. 

“You played the song of the Royal Family,” the zora guard said in perfect Hylian, “but you do not bear the mark of their messenger.” 

Link wasn’t sure what mark he was supposed to be bearing, but he forged ahead. “Princess Zelda sent me,” he explained. “I need to speak with King Zora.” 

He held out the written note from the princess. The guard opened one webbed hand, his almond-shaped eyes scanning it. All of the zoras seemed to have elongated heads, with a fin of some sort hanging down the back in lieu of hair. Their features almost looked Hylian, but sharper, more angular. 

The guard handed back the princess’s note. He stood, retrieving his spear and helmet and tucking it under his arm. As he looked down at Link his eyes changed from pure obsidian to sea blue irises and black pupils. 

It made him look much friendlier, Link thought. The guard said a few orders in the Zora language, and his friends immediately raised their spears, falling into two lines flanking Link. 

“Follow me,” he said. “And watch your step.” 

The entrance tunnel was plenty wide, but at the end it opened into a cavernous room. Despite being under the river, the room was brightly lit by torches and glowing yellow orbs of magic set in cages on the walls. Walkways twisted around the room, looking into a deep blue pool at the foot of another waterfall. Zoras filled the pool, swimming gracefully. Others lounged on the rocks nearby. 

As the group passed, other zoras nodded respectfully to the guards and shot Link curious glances. 

“Forgive them,” the head guard said. “They’ve never seen a Kokiri before.” 

Link smiled and waved at a zora child that was close to his height. The girl giggled and waved back before rushing to a female zora’s side. 

“This isn’t the entire colony,” Navi said from under Link’s hat. “Most of them live aboveground in the zora villages, but this was their safe haven during the war. The king still resides here.” 

The group stopped outside of two huge doors, each etched with beautiful zora craftsmanship. Another tidbit from Navi told him that the zoras were known for their appreciation of art and beauty. They were also proficient healers. 

“Do not speak unless spoken to,” the head guard warned Link before opening the doors. 

He ushered Link inside, bringing him up to a raised podium in a shallow pool. Above the pool, the biggest zora Link had seen yet was perched on a rock shelf, swinging his disproportionately tiny legs and fluttering his gills anxiously. 

“Your Majesty, King Zora,” the guard said. “This is Link, the Kokiri. He has been sent by Princess Zelda of Hyrule to speak with you.” He bowed low and retreated. 

King Zora barely spared Link a glance. “I am sorry child,” he said in a wheezing voice. “I am afraid I cannot hear what you came to say. My dearest daughter Ruto, the princess of the zoras, is missing, you see.” The king breathed a deep sigh, his rotund body expanding with the effort. 

“We have searched everywhere, sire,” the guard cut in. “I’m sorry, there’s been no sign of her.” 

The king let out a moan of despair. “We must find her, Sidas,” he said to the guard. “Perhaps I should pray to Lord Jabu-Jabu.” 

“Any effort helps, my lord,” Sidas said. 

“You are dismissed,” the king said with a wave of his fins. 

“Wait! But—” Link protested, only to have the guard grab his arm. 

Sidas escorted him outside of the throne room without a backward glance. 

“Wait a moment!” Link wrestled from his grip. “You have to let me talk to him! I need the spiritual stone! It’s important!” 

Sidas frowned. “How do you know of the spiritual stone?” he asked curiously, then waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter, look, I have more important things to take care of. Our king is distraught, and I need to find Princess Ruto.” 

“Let me help,” Link offered, thinking of his bargain with Darunia. “If I help find Princess Ruto, will you give me the stone?” 

The zora managed a chuckle. “I couldn’t give you the stone even if I wanted it. It belongs to Princess Ruto. If you find her, you can ask her for it. Not that she’ll give it to you…” Sidas trailed off, then shook his head. “But look, kid, you’re welcome to stay here the night…” 

Link had stopped listening. Navi’s voice had starting ringing in his ear and it was hard to concentrate on anything else. 

“There’s a fairy fountain nearby here,” she trilled excitedly. “I can feel her presence, come on!” 

Link was aware of the numerous fairies’ fountains hidden throughout Hyrule. Saria had shown him one deep within the Lost Woods. The red healing fairies gathered in places where the pulse of magic was strong and they could be safe. He’d been warned many times by the Great Deku Tree that some humans coveted fairy magic for themselves, and so hunted and imprisoned the gentle creatures. 

The zoras didn’t seem evil, and if a fairy’s fountain was close by, they must feel safe with the aquatic race, Link reasoned. 

“Do you have a fairy fountain near here?” Link asked before Navi could shush him. 

Sidas was surprised. “Ah, yes. Next to Lord Jabu-Jabu’s shrine there is a fountain. As far as I’m aware it is empty, however. It was created before we zora came to this place.” 

Sidas agreed to escort Link to the fountain on the condition that he not disturb Lord Jabu-Jabu and that he leave the domain afterward, saying it wouldn’t do to have a Kokiri involved in zora business. 

The head guard guided Link through the domain to a tunnel that led outside to a sheltered lagoon. Floating on its belly before a stone platform was a gigantic fish, its pale blue eyes staring straight ahead. 

“The fountain is on the far side, just follow the bridge,” Sidas explained. “Do not wake Lord Jabu-Jabu,” he added, gesturing to the huge fish. “I will retrieve you in a few minutes.” 

Giving the fish a wide berth, Link stepped onto a narrow wooden bridge and followed it across the water. Sidas had disappeared, so he dared a closer look at Jabu-Jabu and turned left at a fork in the bridge. Walking next to the great fish’s flank, Link noticed his enormous gills looked a little deflated, and were tinged green instead of steel grey like his body. 

“Link, come on!” Navi urged. 

Link turned away from Jabu-Jabu and made his way to the cave Sidas had pointed out. Wading through a thick curtain of vines, he found himself in a cool, quiet room. Square in shape, it seemed to have been hewn from the rock. Magical torches flanked a shallow fountain of white stone. Oddly, there were no fairies floating over its still surface. 

“I know she’s here,” Navi murmured. “I can feel a fairy’s presence.” 

“I am here, little ones,” a musical female voice echoed. 

The walls around the fountain began to change, shimmering like sunlight on water. They transformed from grey rock to a kaleidoscope of colours, shining as they reflected unseen light. Music greeted Link’s ears from an unknown source, and he instantly felt a sense of well-being. 

From the center of the fountain a figure materialized, surged upwards into the air. A woman wrapped in vines and foliage floated there, her toes grazing the water’s surface. Her face was incredibly beautiful, framed by a flowing mane of magenta hair. Her smile was kind, her arms open. 

“Welcome, Link,” she purred, her voice sweet and melodious. “I am one of the Great Fairies of Hyrule.” 

Navi gasped. Link could only gape. 

The great fairy laughed, a sound like wind chimes. “Do not be afraid. I have called you here to help you. A great trial is ahead, and you must be ready.” 

“Great trial?” Link repeated. “Do you mean finding the last spiritual stone?” 

The beautiful fairy answered questions he hadn’t voiced. “I know all about your quest, Link. Almost nothing is hidden from us fairies. I can tell you where to find the remaining stone.” 

She smiled upon seeing the excitement on Link’s face. “Indeed, the stone you seek is with the zora princess, Ruto, inside Lord Jabu-Jabu.” 

Link frowned. “Inside him? How is that?” 

“Lord Jabu-Jabu has fallen ill due to Ganondorf’s schemes,” the fairy said, her lovely face showing her displeasure. “After you retrieve the stone you will need every advantage. A great trial is coming.” She paused, leaning down to say, “When you have the final stone in hand, please come back to see me before returning to Hyrule Castle.” 

With that, the great fairy turned and dove into the water, her form shrinking until she was gone in a blink. The ethereal music faded away, the walls returned to rock. 

Link closed his eyes tight then opened them. The fountain was still there. Navi buzzed around his head. 

“Let’s go, Link!” 

Link turned on his heel and hurried after Navi, but as they made their way back to Jabu-Jabu’s shrine, the great fairy’s words echoed in his head. 

The last time they had spoken, Zelda had mentioned her growing unease as well. She’d felt certain from her dreams that something more was about to happen. 

Link was beginning to understand how she felt. With every step he felt a stone drop in his stomach, warning him of the coming calamity.


	16. Dark Premonitions

Wide, pale green eyes stared back at him, unblinking. At least, he assumed they were looking at him. It was impossible to tell since the great fish had no pupils. 

Link tilted to the side, but Jabu-Jabu eyes didn’t follow the movement. “Is he dead?” he whispered to Navi, lest he offend the fish deity. 

Navi’s wings shivered. “No. Try giving him the fish.” 

Link pulled out a bottle, a small blue fish swimming inside it. When he’d been unsuccessful in getting Jabu-Jabu to open his mouth or even react in any way, Link had asked the zora guard Sidas for help. 

The zora had chuckled and advised him to catch a fish and offer it to the zora guardian. Now that he had brought the offering, Link felt even sillier than before, trying to communicate with a giant fish. 

With a sigh, he uncorked the bottle and dumped the little fish into a water-filled stone bowl in front of Jabu-Jabu. The huge green eyes blinked, then glowed brighter. 

With a start, Link realized the fish had started to move its fins, disrupting the water around it. Jabu-Jabu’s cavernous mouth opened, revealing the long dark tunnel of its throat and a row of surprisingly sharp teeth. 

“Do you feel that?” Navi asked, her wings fluttering anxiously. 

A slight wind had picked up, and the fish in the bowl was unceremoniously caught up and catapulted into the giant fish’s mouth. The wind intensified, and Link heard an unpleasant sucking sound. 

His boots left the ground before he noticed what was happening. 

“Wait!” he shouted, but Jabu-Jabu either did not hear him or did not care. 

Link was flung into the beast’s mouth by the force of it sucking in air, Navi barrelling behind him. 

They landed on a slimy, plushy surface. Link pushed onto his knees. “Gross,” he complained. He glanced back they way they had come. Jabu-Jabu’s mouth had closed. “No way out now,” he added. 

Navi was bobbing up and down in a tizzy. “He won’t eat us,” she assured herself. “He’s sick. I can feel it everywhere. We’ll be safe in here.” 

Link wasn’t about to ask how they could possibly survive inside a fish’s belly. Looking at the slimy walls around them, he shuddered. Best to find Princess Ruto as quickly as possible and get out of here. 

Through the glow of Navi’s wings, they found their way to the end of the tunnel to a dead end. Two flaps of skin blocked their way, looking reddened and inflamed. At their approach, they pulled aside with another disgusting sound, allowing them through into another fleshy room. 

“This is the weirdest and grossest thing I’ve ever done,” Link muttered to himself, trying to ignore each squelch made by his footsteps. 

A faint hum could be heard up ahead, growing louder and more insistent. Sharp hisses punctuated the sound, crackling in the air. 

“Uh oh,” said Navi. 

Out of practice, Link drew his sword and plucked his Kokiri shield from his back. Glowing blue orbs floated around them, ten times the size of Navi. 

“Electrified jellyfish,” Navi explained. “They’re what’s making Jabu-Jabu sick.” 

The jellyfish moved through the air as smoothly as through water, bunching and releasing, their blue bodies crawling with electric currents. Link held out his shield as one came too close. 

A stray tentacle tapped his sword, sending a jolt into Link’s arm. He shouted at the sharp pain, surprised. 

“Run!” Navi urged. “We can’t hurt them!” 

Link ran blindly, trying to see an exit in the semi-darkness. More jellyfish were converging on them from all sides, tentacles waving maliciously. 

Page Break

His foot slid on the slimy floor and then dropped. With a yelp, Link fell into a gash in the floor, escaping the advancing jellyfish. 

Link groaned when he hit a decidedly harder surface, but at least this area had some light in it. And no jellyfish. 

“That wasn’t very heroic,” said a condescending female voice. Only it wasn’t Navi’s. 

Getting his bearings, Link stood up. A Zora stood there, her arms crossed, elbow-fins jutting out. She was clearly still a child; maybe older than the ones he had seen in Zora’s Domain. Her eyes were a deep violet color, her skin a pastel blue, but her expression was aggressively disappointed. 

“I was falling,” Link defended himself. “I wasn’t trying to be heroic.” 

The girl tilted her head, which was vaguely triangular and had no long fin at the back like other zoras. “Weren’t you?” she asked. She tipped up her nose in a very snooty way. “Well, even if my father didn’t send you to rescue me, I don’t need you. I’ve been visiting Jabu-Jabu since I was a baby and I don’t need your help.” 

Link scratched the back of his head. “I’m here to find Princess Ruto—” 

The girl laughed, and somehow made it sound mocking. “I’m Princess Ruto,” she said with a regal sweep of her fins. “You may as address me as Princess Ruto or Your Highness.” 

Navi rolled her eyes. “Um, your highness,” Link continued. “I was told that you have the third spiritual stone. I need it for—” 

Ruto’s violet eyes grew wide. “My mother’s stone!” she gasped. “I can’t give that to you.” She raked her eyes over Link, looking at him for once. “You’re a forest boy, aren’t you? What are you doing here?” 

Link sighed and re-explained himself and his quest to find the spiritual stone. Thankfully, Ruto did not interrupt again. 

The zora princess nodded. “I understand,” she said. “But I can’t give it to you.” She gave him a sheepish look. “I lost it. When I came to see Jabu-Jabu this morning, he surprised me and sucked me in. But he’s different today…there are jellyfish everywhere! I dropped my mother’s stone and I’ve been looking for it ever since.” 

Link frowned. “Your father and the other zoras have been looking for you,” he explained. “We need to get out of here.” 

“Not without my mother’s stone,” Ruto argued. “It’s all I have from her. I’m not leaving without it.” 

“Then let us help you,” Navi offered. “Once we find it, we can get out of here and your father won’t have to worry.” 

Ruto huffed. “Fine, you really want to help? The least you can do is carry me. My feet hurt from searching all day.” 

Link stowed his sword and shield and turned his back to her. “Climb on my back,” he said. “We’ll look everywhere you haven’t yet. Just tell me where to go.” 

Her eyes widened again, as if she was surprised he’d agreed to her request. Nonetheless, she climbed onto Link’s back and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

“That way,” Ruto pointed to another opening in the wall. “There are spots like this all over that weren’t there before.” 

Link hefted his cargo further up and started walking, Navi bobbing along with them. Luckily, Ruto had a small white crystal with her she used to light their way. The light it gave off was brilliant as the sun, the same used in Zora’s Domain to light up the caves with daylight. 

When they came across another horde of jellyfish, Ruto had handed him a zora weapon she called a boomerang, a curved piece of bone that had been smoothed and sharpened on one edge. The weapon arced through air, slicing into the dastardly jellyfish and spinning back into Link’s waiting hand. 

If I had had this in Kokiri Forest, I could have knocked the hat off Mido’s stupid head, Link thought with glee. 

As they ventured deeper into the belly of the fish, there were fewer jellyfish but more signs of distress. Angry red gashes or splotches of greenish tinge were all over the fleshy walls, and there were more holes in the floor that sucked and flapped as if they were struggling to breathe. 

In one room there was a huge purplish-red blob suctioned to the floor and ceiling, pulsing with energy. 

“Maybe this is what’s causing him to be sick,” Link said, letting Ruto slide off his back. 

“Don’t touch it!” Navi shouted when Ruto extended a hand. “It’s electrified.” 

The mass shifted, revealing a pocket in its fleshy, bulbous body. Something shiny was stuck fast in its side. 

Ruto gasped and reached for the object. “My mother’s stone!” 

Without warning the mass moved again, trapping Ruto’s hand. She shrieked as it sprouted more tentacles from its body, each one equipped with a sharp stinger. Link grabbed her arm and ripped it free, but the beast had already woken. 

Its bigger tentacles latched into the ceiling, while its smaller ones twisted like periscopes, searching for a target. The stingers crackled with electricity, ready to strike. 

“It’s draining life force from Jabu-Jabu,” Navi explained hurriedly to Link. “You need to detach it the anemone’s tentacles.” 

Link turned to Ruto and handed her his Kokiri shield. “Take this and keep your crystal up high. Stay out of the centre,” he warned. 

Gripping his sword in one hand and the boomerang in the other, Link advanced on the life-sucking monster. It growled, though it didn’t seem to have a mouth, and began swinging its stingers around, shooting beams of electricity at Link. 

Link hurled the boomerang at the attached tentacles. It sliced through easily, making the monster howl in anger. Once it was detached from the ceiling, it began to move around the room, chasing after Link. 

More jellyfish, bigger than before, joined their master’s side to attack Link. He threw the boomerang again and again, but he wasn’t fast enough to avoid a jolt from one of the stingers. 

The force rattled his teeth and scrambled his brain. Link dropped to a knee, trying to get his focus back. He could hear Ruto shouting at him but couldn’t make out words. 

The giant anemone monster was advancing. Reacting on instinct, Link plunged his sword into its bloated centre. It screeched and retreated, taking its jellyfish friends with it. 

Desperate, it suckered its tentacles into the walls and ceiling, trying to draw life force from its host. Link hacked at the limbs, causing them to shrink away in pain. Retrieving the boomerang he’d dropped, he tossed it at the remaining jellyfish, who had huddled around the monster’s body to protect it. 

With its bodyguards dispatched the monster whirled angrily, its stingers poised and ready. Link rolled out of the way of another zap, ducking under its waving tentacles and hitting it again with his sword. 

Fatally hit this time, the parasitic monster howled, its stingers releasing a final bolt of energy in all directions. Link dropped to his belly as one string of electricity singed the top of his head. 

The monster collapsed, its bloated body disintegrating without life force from its host. Panting, Link stood up and used his sword to sift through the dissolving chunks of flesh until he saw a shiny blue object. 

He picked it up and wiped it on his shirt before it was snatched out of his hands by Ruto. 

“You did it!” she said, awed. She glanced at Link, pasting on an indifferent expression. “That was pretty cool, what you did,” she said airily. “Maybe you are a little heroic.” 

Link shrugged. “Thanks. Is that the third stone?” he asked. 

“Yes.” She curled her hands protectively around it. “I’ll show it to you later,” she snapped, suddenly agitated. “For now, can we please get out of here?” 

***** 

When Link, Ruto and Navi emerged from Jabu-Jabu’s belly, Sidas was waiting for them. 

“Princess Ruto!” he exclaimed. “Thank the goddesses you are safe! Your father’s been so worried!” 

The guard captain caught himself, then turned to Link. “When you didn’t come back I grew concerned. Did you find her highness? Did you save our princess?” 

Before Link could answer, Ruto jumped in with an exaggerated telling of their encounter with the parasitic monster, explaining Link’s valiant rescue of her and her own bravery in the face of danger. 

Sidas smiled indulgently, accustomed to Ruto’s nature. “Your father will love to hear that story,” he told her. “And he’ll be so relieved to see you.” 

Ruto waved her fins. “Yes, yes,” she said. “I will see my father in a moment. If you could give Link and I a moment, Sidas?” 

Sidas chuckled and shot Link a look from the corner of his eye. “Of course, Princess.” He bowed and left. 

Ruto turned to Link with a gleam in her eyes. “This is what I wanted to show you.” She opened her hand, revealing three brilliant sapphires set in gold. The design resembled three figures holding the three stones in upraised arms, arranged in a triangle. 

“It’s meant to represent the three goddesses,” Ruto explained. “As well as the three tenets of Nayru’s Wisdom. But anyways…” she said dismissively. “My mother told me only to give this stone to the man who I’m going to marry.” 

“But you’ll give it to me?” Link asked. 

A faint pink blush tinged Ruto’s pale cheeks. “Yes,” she said. “It’s yours. Take it.” 

She took Link’s hand and placed the precious stone in it. 

“I’ll take care of it,” he promised with a smile, knowing how much the stone meant to her. Link had never known his mother, but he imagined if he had any of her possessions he would hate to lose it. 

Ruto’s blush deepened. “I have to go see my father,” she said, then paused. “Thanks for helping me.” Ruto stood on her toes and kissed Link’s cheek, then turned and ran back towards Zora’s Domain. 

“That was weird,” Navi commented. “But you have three spiritual stones! You should bring them back to Princess Zelda.” 

“Yeah,” Link agreed, rubbing the spot Ruto had kissed him. “But there’s one thing we need to do first.” 

~oOo~ 

Hyrule's great rolling plains spread out before him, a vast green carpet. Castle Town stood out like a beacon, the peaks of Death Mountain just visible on the northeast horizon. 

Ganondorf stood at the top of a crest, the strong wind whipping his cloak around his legs. Nabooru marched up to his side with her usual brusqueness. 

"In position," she reported, sounding a bit bored. "Awaiting your command." 

He grunted in response, not bothering to let her in on his plans. With his army amassed so close to the capital, the Hylians would be already preparing for an attack. One that would never come. 

With a sneer, the Gerudo leader turned away from the view. He faced Nabooru. 

"Keep our armies on alert. Do no attack the capital until after." 

A frown creased her brow. "After what, my lord?" 

Without replying, he beckoned to Alatar, who was hunched at the base of the hill, waiting his command. 

The man hurried to the king's side, his face paler from the exertion. "All is ready, my lord." 

Nabooru's frustration and curiosity was palpable, but she said nothing as Alatar drew out his staff, leaning on it as he withdrew a small knife from his robes. 

The blade was wicked in both shape and colour; flint gray with a jagged edge and vicious point. Without hesitation the sorcerer dragged the tip along his forearm, murmuring in a forgotten tongue. 

Nabooru stared at Ganondorf's profile, but he was starting at the castle with vengeful intent. Alatar continued to chant in that old, familiar but twisted language, drops of his blood painting the grass. 

A shadow passed over them, and the once blue sky became black and angry with storm clouds. A wave of heavy energy rolled over them, nearly driving Nabooru to her knees. Shivers broke out on her skin as the temperature plummeted. The skies opened and rain began to fall in thick sheets. 

The air felt charged and dense, as if Alatar's spell had dropped a blanket over the earth. With a rumble like thunder and snap like lightning, a chasm opened at the sorcerer's feet, stretching until was several hundred feet long. 

Nabooru stared, shocked, as more cracks appeared, growing larger with every whoosh of magical energy Alatar released. He was sweeping his staff in a horizontal pattern, his chanting low and echoing. 

From the voids he'd created, shadows began to crawl out and take shape. They stood, solidifying into existence. 

Hundreds of skeletal creatures stood there, their maws open in ear-splitting shrieks that echoed in the sky. The army of stalfos turned as one towards their master, awaiting his order now that they were free from their prison. 

Alatar smiled, raising his staff above his head. His words blasted across the plain, calling out to each nightmarish creature. Their eyes lit up with an unearthly red glow, they turned their sights to the white castle in the distance. 

~oOo~ 

The blinding halo of light faded and extinguished. His feet touched the ground again. He blinked. 

A ticklish, tingling sensation ran down his arms, into his toes. Link flexed his fingers experimentally. 

The Great Fairy smiled in amusement. “Feels good to have your magic, doesn’t it?” she asked. 

She shook out her long, magenta hair. It floated, mesmerising, around her. Link could only nod, staring at his fingertips, where a small spark materialized and winked out. 

“Should you ever need it, use the Din’s Fire spell,” the fairy advised. “You may need it.” 

“Thank you,” Link said humbly, remembering his manners. The Great Fairy waved a hand. 

The fairy’s ethereal face drew into an expression of concern, her musical voice dampened with gravity. “Link, there are trials ahead for you, and all of Hyrule. You must be cautious.” 

Link nodded again. He knew his quest was nearly over. The three Spiritual Stones were in his possession. All that was needed was to return them to Princess Zelda. 

The great fairy smiled, but her eyes were still sad. “Come to see me again, when you are weary of your battles.” With that, she spun, a twist of magenta and emerald, and plunged into the waters of her fountain.


	17. The Fall of Hyrule

Princess Zelda woke with a shriek, her mind still in the clutches of the nightmare. 

Impa abandoned her post at the window and rushed into the princess’s bedchamber. Her expression softened from alarm to concern when she found the girl sobbing. 

“Zelda,” she murmured, brushing aside her golden hair. “They have returned?” 

Zelda struggled to take a breath through her distress. “I don’t understand…I don’t understand.” Her words were wobbly, muttered. 

Holding her palm to the girl’s forehead, Impa assured herself she was not feverish. She was also fully awake, but it was clear whatever premonition had assailed her this night hadn’t loosened its hold. 

A fervent knock sounded at the door of the adjacent chamber. Impa whispered a few encouraging words before walking to answer it. One of the royal guards burst in, out of breath and wild-eyed. 

“They’re coming for the castle! They’ve nearly reached the gate.” 

Impa’s fists curled in the man’s collar, hauling him up to meet her eyes. “Who is coming?” 

“An army.” The man swallowed, his heartbeat crashing against her fists. “It was conjured by magic! I’ve never seen anything like it. The dead—the dead are rising out of the ground and climbing the walls!” 

She released him. “Go to your post. Now. I will secure the princess. Where is the king?” 

“The council room, my lady.” 

When the guard left, Impa wasted no time. Her weapons were strapped to her legs, arms, hips and waist in moments. She was gathering clothing from the wardrobe when Zelda appeared in her bedroom door. 

“Impa, what is happening?!” 

“We must leave. An army is attacking the city.” 

She thrust the princess’s clothes, cloak and shoes at her. Unsteady but quickly, Zelda put them on, blue eyes wide. 

“It is Ganondorf,” she said with hushed certainty. 

“I believe so.” Impa’s frown deepened. The guard had spoken of the dead rising from the ground, summoned by magic. Few had the power necessary to work such a spell. To do it twice… 

“Zelda, follow on my heels and do exactly as I say.” 

The young girl nodded, drawing up her courage. Impa let words of praise for her young charge go unspoken. There was little time. 

~oOo~ 

Castle Town was in uproar. Whatever was happening outside the gates, no one knew for certain. 

Dark was waiting in the entrance of the orphanage like all the rest, their meagre belongings shoved in a sack and clutched to their chests. Sienna stood next to him, face drawn with fear. 

He thought of the stolen coins waiting for him under the loose floorboard beneath his bunk upstairs. He hadn’t had time to retrieve them before the soldiers had come storming in, ordering immediate evacuation. 

The crow, her sharp eyes surveying the children and counting them silently, drew her cloak around her shoulders. 

“We must leave,” the soldier at the door told her. He glanced out the door he held open, at the mass of people flooding the streets. 

“Come, children,” the crow ordered, her habitual frown more wobbly than usual. 

Obediently, they filed out, younger ones first, after the adults. As they melded into the crowd, it began to rain. 

“We have to go back,” Dark whispered to Sienna. 

“What!? No, Dark! We can’t!” She hissed back. 

He glanced at their guardian, speaking with the soldier about where to go. It was now or never. 

When he turned back towards Palardine, her hand landed on his arm. 

“Dark, wait!” Sienna cried. 

He shrugged off her hand, running back up the street. 

The crow’s voice could be heard above the rumblings of the crowd, the farther sounds of metal striking metal and shouts. Sienna’s footsteps slapped the stones behind him, right on his tail. 

They pushed their way through others, winding back up the street until they reached the deserted orphanage. Dark flew up the stairs two at a time, stopping out of breath at his bedroom door. 

A tall, wiry man wearing a violet coat was bent next to his bed, holding something. The mask salesman looked up with a smile. 

“Don’t mind me,” he said cheerily. “Just retrieving my mask. I hope it was of use to you.” He waved the stone mask at Dark. 

Dark dropped to his knees beside the bed and reached under for the loose floorboard. He pried it up and pulled out the sack of coins he’d stashed there. Tying it to his belt, he covered it with his cloak. 

The mask salesman stood up and stowed his precious mask in his pack, which he secured to his back. 

“I’d get moving if I were you kids,” he advised, smiling at Sienna as he moved towards the door. “Won’t be safe here again for a long while.” 

Sienna moved to Dark’s side, both of them glaring at the eerie salesman. 

“Where are you going, then?” Dark asked. 

The salesman stopped. He twisted his hands together. “Why, Termina, I think. Yes, probably best. Good day!” 

When he disappeared, Dark shuddered. “What a weirdo.” 

Sienna tugged on his sleeve. “We need to go, Dark. It’s not safe.” 

As if confirming her, fresh shouts erupted in the streets below. Rushing to the window, where the rain was now coming in harder and harder sheets, the pair of them saw a group of soldiers parting the crowd of people. 

“Head to the west gate immediately!” the lead soldier shouted. “Do not stop! They have broken through the south gate!” 

“Come on,” Dark said, grasping Sienna’s hand. 

Together they emerged back in the street, tossed around by the surge of moving bodies, pelted by the rain. Castle Town’s west entrance was soon stuffed full, so Dark and Sienna turned back. 

Thunder rolled through the skies, an angry black dragon waiting to strike. Heavy rain made the street slippery and treacherous as the residents of Castle Town fled for their lives. 

Taking the lesser used back alleys, the pair quickly made their way back to the town centre. As the central square came into view, the sight made Dark and Sienna sink back into the shadows. 

Everywhere there were soldiers fighting against an enemy unlike anything he had seen before. The soldiers of Hyrule gleamed in their armour, their swords flashing as lightning illuminated the battle in bursts of brightness. Their opponents’ eyes glowed red with malice, their skeleton bodies dressed in rags and wielding wickedly sharp blades. 

With every scream as a Hylian soldier was cut down, with every howl as one of those dark creatures was banished back to the hell it had crawled from, Dark’s fear rose. 

His eyes darted to an alley across the pavilion. It led to the East Wall—escape. They needed to chance it. 

Sienna clung to his side, hiding her eyes from the carnage. Dark wound an arm around her waist and leaned close. 

“Stay with me,” he said in her ear. “We’ll be out of here soon.” 

She nodded mutely, keeping her eyes shut tight. Dark grit his teeth and sprinted from their hiding place, half-carrying Sienna at his side. If, amid the sounds of ringing metal, screams and bellowing thunder, anyone took notice of them, he wouldn’t know. 

They were almost there when something threw Dark off his feet. The street unflinchingly welcomed his ribs, winding him. 

“Who dares stand in my way!” 

A man’s voice. Dark climbed to his feet, standing in front of Sienna protectively. Before him was a man on a black horse, larger than any man he’d ever seen. 

The giant glared down at him as if he were an annoying pest waiting to be squashed. As they stared each other down, a long-buried memory fought to be seen in Dark’s mind. 

His father Naron’s face blurred and came into focus, etched with pain, his hand reaching out for Dark. 

The giant’s horse snorted, jolting Dark. The giant’s topaz eyes peered at him more closely. 

He inhaled sharply. “I know you.” 

***** 

Ganondorf marched into Hyrule’s Castle Town, triumphant at last. The intoxicating feeling of victory was sweet. 

Alatar and his sorcery had done the trick, and the King of Thieves and his company stepped over the fallen soldiers of Hyrule and onward into the main square. Hyrule Castle loomed ahead on the hill, its white walls looking grey and hopeless, ready for conquer. 

The last step of his plan was risky, but as he watched his army of Stalfos advance, Ganondorf knew he would be unstoppable. 

His horse reared unexpectedly, startled by something. Ganondorf calmed it, taking notice of the two small figures sprawled in the street before him. 

He held up his hand, and his Gerudo soldiers halted behind him. “Who dares stand in my way!?” he bellowed. 

The young boy, no longer a child but not yet a man, rose to his feet, protecting the girl from Ganondorf’s wrath. As the boy looked up, daring to meet the king’s gaze, a flash of lightning brightened the square. 

The child’s eyes were deep blue. Cold fear spiked Ganondorf’s heart. Unsettled, he banished the feeling. It was just a child; how foolish to be afraid. 

“I know you.” 

The would-be king’s temper rose. The child dare speak to him? 

The boy’s face was twisted with anger. He boldly stepped forward, raising an accusing hand. “You murdered him! You’re the one who murdered my father!” 

A soldier’s face flashed in Ganondorf’s mind, filled with anger and defiance, just as the boy’s was now. 

Ganondorf raised his hand. Evil energy swirled in the center of his palm at his command, forming into a magical missile. Bending to his will, the magic shot forward like an arrow, going straight through the boy’s body. 

The girl shrieked as he fell backwards, stunned but not yet dead. 

Ganondorf twisted the reins in his hands and urged his horse into a gallop. The child might live, but he couldn’t spare another thought on the soldier’s son. 

Prophecy or no, he wouldn’t allow someone so insignificant to keep him from his destiny. 

~oOo~ 

“Impa, please slow down! We need to wait for Link to return!” 

The Sheikah woman ignored her charge’s pleading, one arm wrapped around the child and another holding a lit torch aloft to illuminate the tunnel out. Hyrule Castle had been built centuries ago; her secrets, as well as those of her inhabitants’, were well-known to Impa’s people. 

The attack had happened swiftly, as she had known it would. Hyrule’s army was no match for unkillable enemies. Impa knew Hyrule was doomed today. But she also knew her role. 

If Hyrule was to be saved, the girl she carried on her back must escape. 

“Impa!” Princess Zelda cried. “Please, listen to me!” 

Impa did not slow her pace. “I cannot, dearest,” she apologized, patting the young girl’s hand. “You must live. Trust me.” 

By the time Impa had ushered Zelda into the secret tunnel underneath the castle, Ganondorf’s forces had reached their door. Time was growing short. 

She stopped and let Zelda down, reaching into her pocket for two small, round objects. She hurled them at the rock wall before them, the blocked exit. With two sharp pops, the projectiles exploded, blowing the wall outward in a cascade of smoke and gravel. 

Impa pulled a coughing Zelda free of the rubble. They’d emerged just outside the stables, as she wanted. Impa’s speed in saddling one of the royal horses was impressive, as always. 

She knelt to wipe the princess’s face of dirt. “Zelda,” she said, her face sympathetic. “I am sorry, but we cannot wait for Link. It is best for everyone if we get far from this place. Once you are safe, I will search for him—I promise you.” 

Fear lurked in the young girl’s eyes, but she raised her head and nodded bravely. Impa kissed the top of her head. 

“That’s my girl.” 

She hoisted the princess onto the horse’s back, then climbed on behind her, snapping the reins sharply. Zelda’s breath caught in her throat as the horse leapt forward into a strong gallop. 

“Over there!” 

Impa cursed, keeping her eyes facing forward. She urged the horse faster towards the town. The thunder of a dozen riders behind them could be heard, but Impa focused on her mission. A volley of arrows rained down, but Impa’s armour kept them at bay. 

Within minutes they reached the town, and the Sheikah and her passenger lost their pursuers in the maze of back alleys. Emerging later into the main square, Impa used her body to shield the results of the battle from Zelda. 

“Lady Impa!” 

Another rider, mounted on a grey stallion, crossed their paths. The soldier wore silver armour, stamped with the mark of a captain. Impa recognized the mane of red hair escaping from the underneath the helmet and slowed. 

“Lillian,” Impa greeted her as she drew up beside them. “I cannot delay.” 

To punctuate her point, the shouts of their pursuers drew louder, closer. The young woman nodded. “I understand. Allow me to aid you.” 

Lillian, the youngest of the army captains, was not yet twenty-five years of age. Yet Impa considered her one of the bravest and most loyal soldiers she knew. Lillian’s parents had both perished fighting in Hyrule’s Civil War, many years ago. 

Impa glanced into the woman’s blue eyes, steady and strong. She nodded. “May the goddess be at your side.” 

She snapped the reins and turned her horse towards the south. They were nearly there. 

“You will not escape me!” a rough voice bellowed after them. Ganondorf. 

Even as the distance between them grew longer, Impa heard it all. The shrick of Lillian drawing her blade. The sounds of horses shrieking, metal striking metal, lightning crackling overhead. Lillian’s scream. Ganondorf’s cruel laughter. 

Impa crushed Zelda close and carried on, feeling the rain wet her face and hair. A tear rolled down her cheek, but it was quickly washed away. 

She felt Zelda exhale with relief when they pounded over the drawbridge, but Impa could not let up. Ganondorf was close behind. 

Zelda gasped, then shouted. “Link!” 

Impa’s eyes deviated from their mission to take in the flicker of green. The boy had made it after all. He wore a stunned expression as they stampeded past, dodging out of the way. 

Zelda reached under Impa’s arm, throwing a small object in her hand with all her might. Impa looped an arm around her and pulled her back so she wouldn’t fall off. 

As they galloped further into Hyrule Field, the darkness and the fog swallowed them, shielding them from Ganondorf’s view. His roar of indignation at being thwarted made Impa smile. 

~oOo~ 

Rain came down on Link’s head in heavy sheets as he approached Castle Town’s white wall. 

It had taken most of the day to reach this point, even with the Zoras’ help taking him back down the river. They’d said farewell at the great bridge a few miles east of the town. From there Link had continued on foot. 

He stopped abruptly when the big drawbridge came into sight. It was wide open, though it was nighttime. Navi, hiding inside his hat, shivered. 

“There’s something wrong here,” she said in his ear. “I feel some dark energy close by.” 

Link drew his sword and shield, but a quick glance told him there were no enemies nearby. 

The sharp sound of a horse’s whinny caught his attention. Far down the street, coming rapidly towards the drawbridge, a speck of white could be seen. 

Link wiped rain from his face to see better. It was pouring even heavier now. Lightning cracked the sky open, illuminating a pure white horse running full speed towards him. 

A shudder ran up Link’s spine. 

Hooves pounded over the drawbridge, and Link heard someone scream his name. 

The rider did not stop, so he jumped out of the way, his heart in his throat. He stood up, knowing already what he would see. 

Zelda’s frightened face peered back at him from under Impa’s arm. She said something, but the storm snatched her words away. 

She reached for something. Clutched something in her small hand. With a cry she hurled it at Link. He watched it fly, a blurry bit of blue, and land near the castle moat. 

Impa, the rider, pulled Zelda out of sight. 

“Zelda!” 

The horse and its passengers grew smaller and smaller until they were gone, vanished into the darkness of the storm. 

Link’s heart plummeted. Rain pelted his face as he stood there, frozen. 

Behind him, a horse snorted, startling him. Link whirled around, his heart pounding in his chest. His nightmares had warned him of what was next. 

The black stallion and its rider stood there, as nightmarish and horrifying as he remembered. But the man wasn't who he had expected. His features were shadowed or hidden. And his eyes didn’t glow red. 

It was the same man Link had glimpsed through the window with Zelda. The man she’d called Ganondorf. 

“Damn!” Ganondorf cursed, his eyes on the spot where Zelda had vanished. “I lost her!” 

His head turned as he noticed Link, paralyzed with fear a few feet away. “Boy!” he growled. “Did you see where that white horse went?” 

Page Break

Swallowing his fear, Link stood his ground. He would not tell this man anything. He gripped his Kokiri sword tightly in his left hand. 

Ganondorf chuckled, his mouth stretched in a grin. “You have guts, kid.” Topaz eyes fixed on Link. “Wait, you’re that forest kid who’s been causing me so much trouble,” he mused. 

With a wicked grin, the man raised his hand, holding it palm open towards Link. He raised his shield and sword, ready for the hit. 

A black orb of energy swirled in the Ganondorf’s palm, growing bigger and bigger. With a grunt, he tossed it at Link. 

His Kokiri shield shattered into splinters. The sword was knocked from his hand. The dark energy struck him like a bolt of lightning, throwing him off his feet. Link screamed as the energy burned through him; the pain so intense he saw spots darken his vision. It felt like being burned alive and torn apart all at once. 

Lying on the cool grass, looking up at the black sky, the rain stung Link’s eyes. He heard the man’s boots thud on the earth. 

“Maybe now you’ll stay out of my way.” 

With blurry vision, Link saw Ganondorf stoop and grab the small porcelain ocarina Saria had given him. He studied it, curious. Link tried to shout, to tell him to leave his ocarina alone, but his voice failed him. 

“So, she hid it with you, eh, boy?” He threw another wicked grin at Link. “Thanks for the gift!” He swung back onto his horse and dug in his heels. “Yah!” 

The black stallion bolted, soon disappearing as quickly as Zelda had. 

His head felt heavy. His eyes stung. Link lay back in the grass and didn’t move. 

When he awoke a minute later, his limbs were no longer stiff and heavy. Link sat up, rubbing the rain water from his eyes. 

Navi floated in front of his face, fluttering her wings anxiously. “I did everything I could,” she said, her voice spiked with fear. “Are you alright?” 

Link groaned when a headache slammed into his skull. “I’ve been better. Thanks, Navi.” 

He managed to stand, stumbling over to the edge of the of the moat before his strength failed him. 

“You need to take it easy! You took a direct hit from some really dark magic!” Navi scolded. 

Link peered into the water. Several feet down, at the bottom, a curved blue object shone like a seashell. 

“Zelda left it for me,” Link mumbled, still weak. “I need to get it.” 

Before Navi could stop him, he plunged into the chilly water, diving until his outstretched fingers closed over a smooth, round surface. Link broke the surface with a gasp, holding his prize aloft. 

It was an ocarina. It was similar to the one Ganondorf had stolen, but shiny and blue, made of some sort of metal substance. On the mouthpiece was a tiny golden Triforce. 

“Link, can you hear me?” 

“Yeah. What is it, Navi?” 

Navi frowned. “I didn't say anything.” 

“Link...Link, can you hear me?” 

Link's head snapped up. Navi gave him a skeptical look. It was Zelda's voice. Only, how could that possibly be? 

“Navi,” he asked nervously. “How can you tell when you've gone insane?” 

The fairy hovered in front of his nose. “Link, what are you talking about?” 

“Zelda's voice...I can hear her talking to me, in my head.” 

She stifled a laugh. “You're not losing your mind. Zelda told us she knows how to use magic, right? She's reaching out to you telepathically; speaking to you in your mind.” 

Breathing a sigh of relief, Link followed Navi's instructions and concentrated on the sound of his friend's voice. He latched onto the echo of his name floating around in the mental ether and felt an answering connection. 

“Link, are you there?” 

“Zelda, where are you? What happened?” 

“I'm sorry, but we may not be able to see each other again for some time. Hyrule isn't safe anymore.” 

Link's head throbbed from concentrating so hard. Her voice flowed through the connection so easily. Responding was trickier. 

“Do you have the ocarina? It's very important. It's called the Ocarina of Time, a relic passed down through generations of the Royal Family.” 

“I have it. Why did you leave it with me?” 

“Ganondorf's army has taken over Hyrule. He came for the Ocarina of Time because it is the final key to the Sacred Realm. If you have the three Spiritual Stones, Link, take them to the Temple of Time with the ocarina. When you get there, I'll show you what to do.” 

With that, the mental link was severed. Link opened his eyes, not realizing he'd closed them. He tried to reach out again, to hear Zelda's voice, but there was nothing. Navi huddled on his shoulder, keeping out of the rain. 

Link sighed, stowing the ocarina in a free pouch to keep it dry. “We need to go to the Temple of Time. 

Navi hid inside his hat when he pulled it off, shivering from the cold. “How are we going to get inside?” 

“I don't know, yet.” 

“Link, be careful in Castle Town. I'm still feeling some bad things from in there...” 

When he crossed the drawbridge, it was a strange feeling not to pass by the guard, idling in the gatehouse. The cross streets which branched off and curved along the town's walls were deserted. When he reached the main square, he halted mid-step in shock. 

Rain stained with blood ran through each crevice in the cobblestones. The bodies of dozens and dozens of slain soldiers littered the square. Otherwise, the town was empty. 

“You there! Boy!” A weak voice called from his left. 

Link turned to see a soldier leaning against a wall at one of the back alleys. He rushed over to her as she sank down, breathing heavily. 

The woman closed her eyes as Link approached, her red hair soaked and plastered to her face. “You're the boy...from the forest,” she wheezed. “Aren't you? Princess Zelda's friend.” 

“Yes,” Link said, kneeling in front of the soldier. The chestplate of her armour bore a black scar, like a burn. 

She opened her eyes. “I'm Lillian.” She paused to cough, holding her hand over her chest. “Zelda and Impa...are they--” 

“They got away,” Link replied. 

Lillian exhaled with relief. “That is good.” 

Her eyes drifted close again, and she lay a while, face pinched in pain. Link gently shook her shoulder. 

“I need to get into the Temple of Time,” he explained. “Zelda told me it was important.” 

Lillian gazed at him. “Yes, of course.” She tried to sit up and gasped sharply. “I'm sorry I won't be able to go with you...I don't think I can make it.” 

Link frowned. “Is there anything I can do?” 

She glanced at his earnest expression and chuckled, then coughed. “You're a brave kid,” she said. “But, no, there's nothing you can do. This,” she gestured to the black wound on her torso, “was inflicted by Ganondorf's dark magic. It can't be healed.” 

Link's eyes swept over the fallen soldiers, the pain gleaming on their silver armour. Lillian traced his gaze with sadness in her own eyes. 

“I know you and Zelda were trying to prevent this,” she murmured. “But don't blame yourself. This was Ganondorf's doing.” 

As if edged on by the sound of his name, the black scar suddenly spread, enveloping Lillian's entire torso. It spread over her shoulders and neck, traveled down her belly and across her legs. Her eyes were wide in her frozen face, her limbs rigid. 

The blackness crawled up to Lillian's face in eerie arterial lines, reaching up to her eyes. 

“Link,” she gasped, her teeth set against whatever pain the dark magic was causing, “Go to the Temple. Stop him. 

A shaky breath escaped her, then the blackness covered her completely. Link leapt back in alarm as her form folded and dissolved before his eyes, becoming no more than a handful of grey ash. 

Shuddering in fear and panic, Link stood up and ran. The Temple of Time was on the other side of the square, but he kept going. He followed the same path he remembered from his first day in Castle Town. 

On the way he passed by more signs of a battle. Scorched stone, spilled blood, discarded metal. Among them other items people had left behind—a torn cloak, a carved flute, a child's doll. 

When he at last saw the temple's great spires and sky-high windows, Link felt he'd entered another world. The building was untouched, as stately and serene as it had always been. As if it had been awaiting his arrival. 

In the heavy rain, he climbed the steps and stood at the tall doors. They arched high above, imposing and unmoving. 

“Well, open them!” Navi urged. 

Link pushed against the heavy door, surprised when it creaked open. Had someone unsealed the doors? He stepped into the chilly antechamber, blinking in the change of light. 

The inside of the temple was one of the biggest he'd ever seen. It reminded him of the indoor courtyard where he and Zelda had spied on the King's meeting, seemingly an age ago. 

The ceiling stretched towards the sky in a point, white stone beams criss-crossing at its peak. His foosteps echoed on the intricately patterned tiled floor, a dizzying swirl of black and white. To the left and right gigantic, rain-splashed windows stared down at him, illuminating the hall in dull, grey light. 

For all its grandeur, it was completely empty. The only thing in the whole place was a raised platform with a peculiar symbol emblazoned on the stone, and a small monument at the far end, at the base of some steps. 

Navi floated over to examine the monument while Link looked up at the enormous stone door behind it. The Triforce had been expertly carved into its face. 

“There's an inscription here,” Navi announced. “It's in ancient Hylian, but it reads 'whoever holds the three Spiritual Stones, stand here with the Ocarina of Time and play the ancient song.'” Navi grumbled. “What ancient song? That's not helpful at al 

Link wasn't listening. He'd placed the three stones in the grooves dug into the monument's top and retrieved the ocarina. He rubbed the smooth surface of the instrument, trying to reach out to Zelda again through the telepathic connection. 

After a few frustrating minutes, the back of his neck tingled and he felt the mental barrier give way as if he'd cut through a spiderweb. 

“Link? Link, are you there?” 

“Zelda, I made it to the Temple of Time. I placed the stones on the altar, and I have the Ocarina of Time.” 

“Link, if you play the Song of Time with the ocarina, it will open the door. I believe once the door is open, you'll be able to enter the Sacred Realm and keep the Triforce away from Ganondorf.” 

Before he could admit that Ganondorf had already defeated him and ask how he was supposed to stop him, a melody drifted into his mind, deep and resonating. 

Without direction, his hands raised the Ocarina of Time, and he began to play, following along with the song. 

As the final notes echoed in the temple, the Spiritual Stones began to glow faintly from within, matching the shimmer of the ocarina in Link's hands. 

The Triforce symbol on the door above him suddenly blazed with golden light, blinding him. A faint rumble grew in force and volume, and Link realized the great stone door was opening, just as Zelda had said. 

With a low boom, the door lay open. Link stared in awe at the small chamber beyond. Unlike the temple hall, it was circular, with stained glass windows that made the room darker. 

Link stepped past the stone doors warily, looking back over his shoulder in case they decided to close again and trap him. 

Navi gasped. “Is that...?” 

Link looked around. On yet another platform with more strange symbols arranged in a circle, a set of steps led up to a pedestal. Struck in the pedestal was a gleaming sword, glowing faintly blue in the dim light. 

“Link, that's the Master Sword!” 

He blinked and bent to take a closer look. The weapon was magnificent; it showed no signs of wear or age. The crossguard resembled the spread wings of a bird, the hilt set with a small yellow stone. 

“It's a fabled sword of legend,” Navi told him. “The Sword of Evil's Bane. Zelda must think this can stop Ganondorf!” 

Link stared at the mysterious sword. “This can stop Ganondorf?” 

Link stepped up to the pedestal. He wrapped his hands around the hilt of the sword, too big for a child. If this sword would give him the power to stop Ganondorf from turning all of Hyrule into ash, he knew what he needed to do. 

Link seized the Master Sword's hilt and pulled it free.


	18. Interlude

_Lanayru Province, several miles from Castle Town_

Rain fell from the sky. Though it drenched the land in heavy torrents, it was still not enough to diminish the flames. The blaze lit up the angry sky, the black smoke swirling with the dark storm clouds. The hazy outline of the castle was barely visible from this distance. 

Princess Zelda watched the fires continue to burn, destroying her childhood home. Raindrops hit her face, mingling with the tears there. Slowly, the horrible sight disappeared from her view as they galloped further and further away. 

Zelda let out a sob, burying her face in Impa’s chest. Her attendant held her close with one arm, the other holding the horse’s reins. Impa continued to push the animal, riding hard to escape any pursuers. Zelda didn’t worry about anyone following them; somehow she knew they had lost them. Her mind was instead consumed with the events of the night. Events she wished to forget, and yet events she had to remember. 

Her father, dead or captured. The castle, destroyed. The townspeople, scattered, their homes burned to the ground. Link… 

Zelda gritted her teeth to stop another sob from escaping. What had become of her friend? She prayed to the gods that he had escaped any harm. She prayed he had taken the ocarina to the Temple of Time…but there was no way of knowing. Her connection to him had been lost. He was gone. Where, she knew not. 

Impa stroked her hair sympathetically. “Zelda,” her voice was, even now, calm and collected. 

Zelda sniffed. “Yes?” 

“All is not lost, dear,” Impa reassured her, holding the young princess tightly. 

Zelda nodded. For her nursemaid’s sake, she would try to be brave a little longer. Impa had been caring for her since she was born. She was more than her teacher and servant; she was the only mother she had known. And now, Impa was all she had. 

**~oOo~**

Elsewhere, Dark and Sienna looked on from a hillside. After their encounter with Ganondorf, they had managed to escape Castle Town unscathed. By now the surviving townspeople had fled; a dark line across the valley stretched towards the northeast. The refugees were headed for Kakariko village, hoping to find shelter there. 

Sienna watched with sorrowful eyes as the town continued to burn. Dark had long since turned away from the sight. 

“Come on,” he said impatiently, tugging on the girl’s arm. 

“Wait.” She pulled back, wiping tears from her eyes. 

Dark turned to her, surprised. “Why are you crying?” 

“It was my home,” she whispered. “And now it’s gone. Everything.” 

Dark put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her away. He glared over his shoulder at the besieged town. “It was a prison,” he said coldly. “We’re finally free of that place. Let’s go.” 

Sienna punched him in the arm weakly. “How can you say that!?” 

Dark rubbed his arm, shooting her an annoyed glare. He noticed the tears still streaming down her cheeks and softened a bit. “Sienna,” he said, trying to sound comforting. “We have to leave…we can start fresh, someplace new. Forget about that place.” 

Slowly, Sienna nodded, letting Dark lead her away from the scene. 

The pair of them walked for days, all the way to the border, and out of Hyrule. The kingdom had fallen. A tyrant had taken the throne, and even now, dark clouds amassed to cover the land and bring evil into the land of the gods. There was nothing left for them here. 

They kept moving eastwards, towards Termina. Towards something better.


	19. Snow and Ash

_Snowhead Mountains, Termina, 7 years later…_

Snow fell from the sky. This time of year, the snow drifted down in thick, fluffy flakes. The peaks of Snowhead looked particularly lovely today, coated with the soft blanket of snow. 

Dark lay on top of the cottage’s roof, having cleared the snow off the sunny side. The pleasant winter sun had dried the shingles, so he didn’t have to worry about his clothes getting wet. 

Dark yawned, pulling the hood of his jacket up to shade his eyes. He often hid up on the roof, usually to escape his responsibilities. He smiled to himself, enjoying his self-dedicated afternoon off. 

A sweet voice drifted up to him from down below. Someone was singing. Dark bolted upright, impatiently pushing his hood back. Slowly, he crept on his hands and knees to the edge of the roof. Peering over the edge, he could make out the form of a young woman walking through the snow-covered yard. 

The girl pushed the hood of her winter jacket back, revealing her long auburn curls. Dark found himself smiling. She turned towards the cottage, and he instinctively ducked. Luckily, a copse of trees near the cottage obstructed Sienna’s view of him. 

Dark lay on his stomach, watching Sienna go about her work. She hunted through the snowdrifts, digging through the snow until she found the struggling plants buried in the frozen earth. She sang quietly as she worked, cutting off the leaves or roots and stowing them in a basket. They made excellent soup ingredients. Dark crossed his arms under his chin, closing his eyes as he listened to her singing. 

“There you are.” 

He started, flipping onto his back and raising his arms in defense. He paused when he realized it was just Fierce. As usual, he was as stoic and emotionless as a rock. He didn’t even seem angry that Dark had played hooky on him. He wasn’t even triumphant at having found his hiding place. 

“Stop doing that!” Dark hissed, climbing to his feet. 

Fierce raised a pale eyebrow. The rest of his face remained blank. “Stop doing what?” 

Dark opened his mouth, then closed it, unable to come up with a suitable explanation. Fierce waited patiently for an answer. When he received none, he turned and leapt off the roof. He landed gracefully on his feet, like a cat. He turned and waved for Dark to follow him. 

“It’s time for your lesson,” Fierce said, voice even. 

Dark sighed and climbed down from the roof, grabbing a tree branch and using it to swing down to the ground. Fierce turned without a word and led Dark around the back of the cottage to the corral. Dark followed, kicking at clumps of snow as he went. 

Fierce had always unnerved him a bit, even when he was a kid and he’d simply known him as “big brother,” his imaginary friend. Now that he knew who Fierce really was, it didn’t make him any less strange. 

Dark and Sienna had been staying at the Snowhead cottage with their “guardian” for nearly seven years. After they’d left Hyrule, they’d traveled east and into Termina. For months they’d wandered, camping outside until they’d come across the cottage in the Snowhead mountains. Thinking it abandoned, the kids had set themselves up there. Instead, they had found Fierce waiting for them… 

_With a groan, the rotted door came free from the frame. Dark tumbled back into a snowdrift, the door hitting him in the nose. He tossed it aside, accepting Sienna’s hand as he climbed to his feet. _

_“Okay, ready to look inside?” he asked her. _

_Sienna shifted nervously. “I don’t know, Dark, what if there’s…something living in there?” _

_Dark patted her on the shoulder, pulling a small dagger out of his pocket and flipping it over a few times. “Don’t worry, Sienna, I can handle this.” _

_Dark crept into the old abandoned cottage, holding his dagger out in front of him, trying to look confident for his friend. They’d made it this far, he was sure he could tackle any monsters that might be lurking in the dark. A floorboard creaked under his foot and he leaped back in surprise. Sienna gasped, grabbing the back of his coat. Dark took a deep breath, steadying his heartbeat. _

_“Come on,” he whispered, leading her forward into the darkness._

“Dark,” Fierce’s voice cut off his reverie. 

“Yeah?” Dark asked. 

“Let’s get started.” Fierce held out his hand, palm open. An orb of light appeared in his palm, and quickly stretched into a distinctive form. It stopped glowing, and the light-form became a solid steel longsword. 

Dark raised a brow. He figured by now he’d be used to Fierce’s little tricks, but they continued to intrigue him. Sure, lots of Hylians had magic. Dark did. Fierce was teaching Sienna the healing arts. According to Fierce, Dark had to learn how to use a sword first, though. Dark rubbed his hands together against the cold, reaching behind his back to unsheathe his own sword. 

The pair of them raised their blades, crossing them together in classic prelude to a duel. Fierce’s sword glowed with that same energy, the light reflecting off Dark’s blade. 

_A glow of yellow light sped towards them out of the darkness. Dark jumped back again, pushing Sienna behind him as he raised the dagger in shaky hands. _

_“Hey!” he shouted at the darkness. “Come on out and fight!” _

_Something moved in the corner where the light had come from. Dark tensed, raising his dagger threateningly. He could hear Sienna breathing quietly behind him, her heartbeat hammering against his back. The shadows scurried away as a flame appeared, lighting up the shape that moved towards them. He stopped right in front of the children, still as a statue. _

_“Dark,” the figure spoke, his voice almost toneless. “Sienna.” _

_Before Dark could recover from his shock, the entire room lit up, candles hanging on the wall suddenly bursting into life. Dark turned to the man standing in front of him. He was tall, frighteningly so. He towered over the children. Dark took a step back. He was wearing armour and carried a sword on his back. His left hand was held up, palm towards the ceiling. A flame danced in his hand, leaving his skin untouched. _

_“Who…who are you?” Dark asked, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. _

_The man smiled, holding the flame closer to his face. “Don’t you recognize me?” _

_Dark looked again. With the man’s face now illuminated, Dark studied his features. He had long, silvery blonde hair pulled back into a short ponytail. His skin was pale, almost transparent. His eyes were also too light-coloured to look natural. They were so light a blue they were almost indiscernible in the whiteness of his face._

Dark’s mind slowly focused on the present, the fog of memories clearing just in time for him to see Fierce’s blade slicing through the air an inch from his nose. Dark jumped backwards, going cross-eyed. 

“Focus,” Fierce reprimanded, face still expressionless. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, taking a defensive stance as Fierce continued to rain blows down on him. 

He easily blocked and parried every swing that Fierce threw at him. Of course, practice had improved him. The first time they had sparred, Dark hadn’t been able to land a single hit or stay upright long enough to block a consecutive blow. 

Eventually, Fierce stopped, giving Dark a moment to catch his breath. “Most impressive,” Fierce congratulated him. “You’re improving.” 

“Thanks,” Dark said between pants. 

Dark hated that even a short sparring session with Fierce made him this tired. Then again, Fierce was no ordinary man. Any normal teacher might have limited himself, strength-wise. Of course, if Fierce were to unleash the remainder of his strength, Dark knew he would look a lot worse for wear. He knew why Fierce worked him so hard, but it had never ceased to irk him that he had near limitless power at his disposal. 

_“Wha-what are you doing here!?” Dark asked, incredulous. “And how can she see you!?” _

_Sienna could indeed see the man before them. All this time, Dark had thought his “big brother” had been a figment of his imagination. _

_“Dark,” Fierce said, a small smile breaking the emotionless face. “I’m not a figment of your imagination. I’m not who you believe me to be.” _

_“Then…who are you?” _

_Sienna piped up from behind Dark’s back, her voice quiet. “He’s…the warrior god. The Fierce Deity.” _

_Fierce shrugged. “I have many names.” _

_Dark started. “You’re…a god!? But, how?” _

_The god placed a hand on each of their shoulders and looked at each of them in turn. Dark stared in confusion, feeling the weight of his hand on him. It was so weird to see a supposed god like this, in the flesh. _

_“There are many things I must explain to you,” he started, crossing his hands in front of him. “But for now, I ask that the two of you remain here in this cottage.” _

_“Why should we do anything that you tell us?” Dark asked, crossing his arms in defiance. Sienna tensed next to him, squeezing his hand in warning. _

_“Dark,” Fierce said quietly. “I am sorry I lied to you, but as you might have guessed, I could not reveal my true self to you then. No, I am not your true older brother. However, I am here to guard you and Sienna.” _

_“Guard us?” Dark asked in disbelief. _

_“Yes. As you have seen, Hyrule has been overcome by darkness. I have waited here for the both of you, so I might protect you during this time.” _

_Dark scoffed. “If you’re a god, why aren’t you helping Hyrule? Why are you here, acting like a mortal man?” _

_Fierce lowered his eyes. “Hyrule is being watched over by others. I am here because it is my duty to guide you. Assuming a mortal form was simply the easiest way to do so.” _

_“Guide us? What do you mean?” Sienna asked, frowning. _

_“It is my duty to guide the pair of you along your paths of destiny.”_

Destiny. That’s what he had called it. It was then that Fierce had become their guardian. It was then that he had started training them. Dark began to learn swordsmanship, and Sienna was taught how to use her magic to heal. 

At first it had been strange, living with a god. A god in mortal form, albeit. Sienna had warmed to him quickly, though. Eventually, Dark had begun to see him as his older brother again, and not simply as his heavenly guardian or whatever he was supposed to be. Over the last seven years they had created a makeshift family. 

Life had been peaceful and simple. Termina had been blessedly excluded from the darkness that still consumed the kingdom of Hyrule. Not that the Terminians didn’t care about their sister kingdom, just that nobody could do anything to help Hyrule. Its borders had been blocked by a strong magical barrier; no one could get in or out. 

Certainly, life in Termina was easier than in Hyrule, but for Dark it wasn’t without grievances. Like training, for instance. 

“Ready?” Fierce asked, raising his blade in a defensive position. 

Dark sighed, readying his sword for attack. He and Fierce stared each other down, Fierce with his characteristically serene expression, Dark with his usual scowl. 

Abruptly, he rushed Fierce, the heels of his boots finding traction in the snowy ground, propelling him forwards. He was fast, that was one advantage he had. He was a dark blur as he raced towards his opponent. 

His boots crunched against a snowless patch of dirt as he leaped through the air, swinging his sword. Fierce moved at the last second, bringing his sword up to block. The ringing sound of metal on metal echoed through the mountain forest. 

Fierce knocked Dark back, throwing his weight against him. Dark hit the ground and back flipped out of range of Fierce’s follow-up attack. He landed gracefully, blocking another consecutive hit. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sienna approaching the old corral. She leaned against the fence, repaired by Dark years ago, her basket of roots and other plants swinging from her arm. She waved at Dark, a cute smile lighting up her face. 

Dark grinned, automatically raising his arm to wave back. Fierce’s blade whistled through the air; Dark barely had time to retract his limb before it was chopped right off. 

“Hey!” he shouted at his teacher. 

“Focus,” Fierce said again, pointedly nodding in Sienna’s direction. 

Dark growled and attacked Fierce again. To the side, Sienna was blushing, embarrassed. She mumbled something about making dinner before retreating to the house. Dark continued to strike at Fierce, his blows getting consistently more forceful. 

Fierce held up a hand to stop him and Dark paused mid-swing. Fierce shook his head as if in disappointment. 

“What?” Dark demanded, lowering his weapon. 

“Battles aren’t won with sheer force, Dark,” Fierce said. “You can’t rely on your anger to bring you strength.” 

Dark rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. And anger is bad for your soul and all that. I get it.” 

Fierce sighed, perusing him with those freaky, ice-blue eyes again. “Revenge is a fruitless ambition, Dark. It will not bring them back.” 

Dark rounded on Fierce. “I know that! You’ve reminded me enough! Besides, I don’t even know who or where that man is!” 

Fierce was by his side in the next second, hands on his shoulders. “Dark,” he said firmly. “You were young at the time. There is no need for you to torture yourself with fading memories from the past.” 

Dark shrugged him off. “My memories are just fine. I remember that night like it was yesterday. I just don’t know who that bastard is that murdered my father.” 

Fierce sighed. “In good time, you will find out. Then, you will have a choice to make.” 

“I’ve already made my choice,” Dark clenched his teeth. “I could carry through with it sooner if you told me who he was.” 

Fierce shook his head, something Dark thought he recognized as sorrow in his fathomless blue eyes. “You know I am not permitted to reveal that information yet.” 

“Yeah, the whole rules of godhood and all that.” Dark sighed. 

Fierce put his hand on Dark’s shoulder again. “Dark, I am here as your guide and your friend, but I cannot reveal anyone’s future to them. It must be you alone who makes your choices.” 

Dark sighed again after a long pause. “I know.” 

“Dinner’s ready!” Sienna’s voice called from one of the cottage’s rear windows. 

Fierce patted Dark on the back. “That’s enough training for today.” 

Dark grinned and took off for the cottage, eager to taste Sienna’s cooking for the night. Fierce remained in the corral, sheathing his sword. He turned westwards and watched the sun as it slipped beneath the horizon. He closed his eyes, thinking of home. 

Soon, he thought, soon everything will change. 

**~oOo~**

_Hyrule Castle, King’s study_

In seven short years, Hyrule had been utterly transformed. 

Its once rolling green hills and lush valleys had become a barren wasteland of dirt and ash. The pure, crystalline waters had turned murky and uninhabitable. 

Towns had been ravaged by fires or ransacked by bandits or monsters. Creatures born from nightmares crawled over the earth, living in abandoned towns or hiding in the darkest corners of what was left of the world. 

Hyrule Castle had, miraculously, remained standing. Of course, like the land it looked upon, it had been morphed beyond recognition. 

Instead of the pristine white structure it had been, it had been burned black by fire, and turned into the nightmarish castle of a tyrant; a tyrant who controlled the land with the stolen power of the gods. 

He stood proudly, anger etched into his expression as he surveyed the world he had destroyed and made his own. 

The window he looked out had been beautiful once, a work of art by a true craftsman. Crystal-like panes intricately woven together by a detailed metal frame used to show a spectrum of colors. Now that frame was empty, the glass shattered. 

Everything had changed, including himself. He was no longer the leader of the Gerudo thieves. He was Ganondorf, King of Hyrule. 

“My lord,” a servant approached him, quickly dropping to his knees before the King. 

He waved his hand for him to continue, turning from his examination of the scenery. The servant stood, relaying the message that Captain Aalrian had returned. 

“Send her in,” he commanded, seating himself in his throne as the servant scurried off. 

Moments later, the Gerudo captain strolled in. She bowed to him, one hand on the hilt of her sword as was Gerudo custom. “My lord,” she said. 

“Captain Aalrian, your report?” 

“Yes, sire. I’m afraid the rumours proved to be untrue. We were unable to locate her.” She shifted uncomfortably, knowing the King wouldn’t be happy to hear the same bad news again. 

He leaned back in his chair. “I see. Keep searching, I am certain she is hiding nearby…I can feel it.” He clenched a fist, feeling the surge of power sizzle up his arm. 

“My lord?” 

He glanced impatiently at the captain. “Yes? Out with it.” 

“It’s Nabooru, sir. I’m afraid she’s gone missing.” 

Ganondorf arched an eyebrow, standing up from his chair. “Missing? Really? Now that is interesting…” 

“Sire?” 

“Pay no mind. She is not a priority.” 

Confused, Aalrian nodded. Her duties complete, she bowed again and left the King’s presence, breathing a sigh of relief. 

He settled back into his throne, clenching and unclenching his fist. The former Princess of Hyrule had evaded him for seven long years. He didn’t expect her to be found easily. 

But I must find her, he mused, and soon. Before he reappears. I must have the other two pieces. 

He glanced down at his clenched fist, enjoying the constant surge of power that coursed through him now. But his power was incomplete. The power he had waited so long to wield was his, and yet it was not enough. 

“I must redouble my search efforts…” he said to himself. Standing again, he called for a guard. 

The soldier, who had once served the Royal family and had been forced into new employment, entered from his position just outside the throne room’s massive doors. He knelt in front of the King, hands shaking on his spear. 

“Yes, sir?” 

“Bring me the captain of the guard, tell him it is urgent,” Ganondorf said quickly before waving the guard away. 

He watched the man leave with hateful eyes. He despised having Hylian soldiers around, but they were useful. Still, he kept a close eye on them for any deserters. Any man found betraying the king was immediately executed. 

Speaking of executions…He strode again to the window. From its vantage point he could see clearly the castle courtyard, where a line of prisoners stood with their backs to him. 

Traitors. 

His lips curled at the sight of them in their dirty rags, bodies emaciated from spending weeks in the castle’s dungeons. In front of them was a raised wooden platform with wooden poles attached. From each of these poles hung a noose; one for each prisoner. 

All the prisoners were Hylians, yet there was no crowd of townspeople assembled to watch their execution, only a small amount of guards, all Gerudo. 

No one would be present to watch these traitors die. No man would stand before them, giving them final words of hope, or shedding tears of grief. These men would die alone. 

A cruel smile twisted his mouth. These men had fought against him, in one way or another. Their efforts had been futile. They deserved their fate. 

He continued to watch as the prisoners’ Gerudo guards pushed them onto the platform, securing the ropes around their necks. Their defeated expressions and hollow eyes he could see from here. It gave him immense satisfaction to see these people as helpless as he had felt under their reign. 

A Gerudo guard stepped forward and pulled the lever. 

Ganondorf closed his eyes briefly. There was no ceremony, no parting words said for the souls of these men. Not even any birds cried out as they fled from the nearby trees, disturbed by the sight of death. Instead, there was nothing. 

There was only silence.


	20. The Hero of Time

He felt like he was floating, drifting aimlessly in the void between sleeping and wakefulness. He would start dreaming soon. The nightmare that had haunted him these last several months would be back. He had dreamed it again, just last night. 

…Wait. It hadn’t been a dream this time. It had been real. He hadn’t been asleep. It came back in a rush, slamming into his mind with amazing force. 

A white horse, galloping towards where he stood near the drawbridge. Zelda’s face, her eyes wide with terror as she called out to him. He tried to reach her, but she flew past him. She had thrown something back to him … what was it? He hadn’t had time to think about it. Suddenly, Ganondorf had been bearing down on him, and then… 

He struggled to push back the void that threatened to consume him again. The object Zelda had thrown--the ocarina! He had gone to the Temple of Time as she'd asked. He had opened the doors. The sword had been there in front of him. The Master Sword. 

Link’s eyes snapped open. Sharp blue light blinded him and he squeezed them shut again. His body felt so heavy, like he’d been sleeping for days. He felt…different, somehow. What had happened? 

“Navi?” he called out weakly. Why did his voice sound so strange? 

I must be bedridden, he thought, I must have passed out, and my voice sounds funny because I just haven’t used it in days and am just waking up. 

“Rise, Link.” 

The voice was unfamiliar. It was deep and solemn. A man’s voice, worn with age. Link struggled to open his eyes again, intending to find the source of the voice. As his eyes slowly reopened, what he saw shocked and amazed him. He bolted into a seating position, his eyes opening wide. 

The room—if it could be called that—he found himself in was indescribable. He sat on a wide, hexagonal platform that appeared to be constructed of thousands of tiny blue gemstones. 

The entire floor glittered, emitting a ghostly blue light. The platform was surrounded by waterfalls of some kind, pouring from high above. The ceiling didn’t exist; the water simply came from nowhere. It wasn’t even water, but a liquid version of the brilliantly shining gemstones that made up the platform. 

There were hundreds of these waterfalls, all different from the last, stretching on further than his eyes could see. The platform, and indeed the sources of liquid gems, appeared to be suspended in space. 

Link slowly got to his feet, looking around in awe. Where was he? He never knew such a surreal place existed. He looked around again, noticing that there were altogether another six circular pedestals adorning it. Each shone with light, although only one was blue like the rest of the room. The rest were green, red, orange, purple and…Link started when he realized there was someone standing on the yellow pedestal directly in front of him. 

“Link.” The old man smiled at him. “The chosen hero.” 

The man wore a hooded orange robe, a brown sash tied around his generous middle. His balding head and full beard were pure white. Two dark eyes glittered in the old man’s face as he surveyed him. Link realized his jaw was hanging open and hastily closed it. “I’m sorry, sir, but…what are you talking about? How do you know my name? Where am I?” 

The old man chuckled. “Peace, my boy. I am Rauru, one of the ancient Sages who built the Temple of Time.” 

“The Temple of Time!” Link exclaimed. “Is that where we are right now?” 

Rauru shook his head. “No, this place is known as the Chamber of Sages, located in the Temple of Light.” 

Link blinked a few times. “The Temple of Light…but…” 

Rauru held out a hand. “I know you are confused, Link. This Temple does not reside in the mortal world. It exists in the Sacred Realm, the realm of the gods.” 

“So…am I…” Link frowned, trying to make sense of the impossible information he was being told. 

Rauru shook his head again. “No, Link. Allow me to explain. When you entered the Temple of Time and opened the door, you took hold of the Master Sword, the evil-destroying sword that is the key to the Sacred Realm. Although you opened this door in the name of peace, intending to protect Hyrule from Ganondorf’s evil, your actions allowed him to enter this realm and steal the power it held.” 

“The Triforce,” Link said, and Rauru nodded in confirmation. 

“Do not blame yourself,” Rauru continued, seeing the distress on Link’s face. “Ganondorf may have taken the power for himself, and used it to bring Hyrule to her knees. However, you alone hold the power to defeat him.” 

“I do?” Link asked, confused. 

“Yes,” Rauru nodded. “The Master Sword is known as the sword of evil’s bane. Its power is weakened, but it can be restored and used to defeat the evil king. It is a sacred blade that evil ones may never touch. It can only be wielded by the one known as the Hero of Time.” 

Link paused, staring in disbelief at Rauru. The old sage smiled. “Ah, I see you have heard of the legends.” 

“Well…yes.” Link admitted, remembering the wonderful tales Zelda had recounted to him during their days in Hyrule Castle's enormous library. “But how can that be possible? How can I be the Hero of Time!?” 

Rauru fixed him with a look. “It is your spirit. You have been chosen by the goddess. However, when you pulled the sword from its resting place, you were too young to assume your place as the chosen hero, so your spirit was sealed here for seven years…” 

Link gaped at him. “S-seven…years!? I’ve been here for seven years!?” 

Rauru nodded solemnly. “Link, do not be alarmed…Look at yourself.” 

For the first time, Link noticed the things he had been ignoring in light of Rauru’s revelations. His body still felt heavier than it should; denser, somehow. Rauru was a grown man, yet Link was looking down at him instead of up. His voice still hadn’t returned to normal, either; it was too deep, and every time he spoke he felt his chest rumble with the vibration. 

Link held his hands up in front of his face, his eyes not comprehending what he saw. His hands weren’t his own. They felt so familiar, and yet looked so foreign. They had grown from a child’s into a man’s. Shaking, Link lowered his hands, looking down at himself. The ground was further away than he was used to, and his eyes struggled to adjust. His mind was reeling at the thought that he had skipped over the last seven years completely. He wasn’t a ten-year-old child anymore, he was a grown man. How could it be possible? 

“Link,” Rauru’s voice distracted him from his chaotic thoughts. “You must strengthen your blade and awaken the power within you. You must return to Hyrule and find the remaining Sages.” 

“The Sages?” Link asked, still struggling to absorb the mountain of information. 

“Together, the Sages can seal the evil king in the Void, and return peace to Hyrule. However, you alone are able to defeat him and return balance to this land. Link, do you understand?” 

Link was silent for a moment. His mind finally caught up as he absorbed everything Rauru had said. Any other person might have gone insane, hearing that the fate of the entire world rested upon his shoulders. Link closed his eyes. 

Zelda's face appeared, smiling when he'd told her he believed her prophecy. A prophecy that had partly come to pass, it seemed. 

Link remembered the words of his guardian, the Great Deku Tree, warning him of the coming trials, telling him of a destiny beyond the forest. It echoed the pull he'd always felt, tugging at the back of his brain, telling him that there was something more waiting for him, just beyond the forest's safety. 

Link opened his eyes. 

If what Rauru said was true, his choice had already been made. Ganondorf’s face flashed in his mind. He wasn’t sure why, but it strengthened his resolve. If Hyrule was threatened, he would protect it. 

“Yes…” Link said slowly. “I will find the Sages, and I will save Hyrule.” 

Rauru smiled again, raising his arms to the infinite ceiling. “Then go, Hero of Time, and take my power with you.” 

Link frowned, unsure of how to return to the Temple of Time. The answer came quickly though. There was a flash of yellow light, and before him appeared a small, golden medallion. Engraved upon it was the symbol of Light. Link reached out for it; it was slightly larger than a coin, and twice as heavy. 

“Take it with you,” Rauru told him. “It contains the last of my power.” 

Link nodded as the beautiful blue room started to fall away. His vision blurred as he felt that sensation of floating once again. He fell, too slowly, through the endless expanse of glowing blue and blackness, the platform getting smaller and smaller above him. The blurred edges crept inwards until there was nothing but darkness. 

**~oOo~**

_Snowhead Cottage, Termina_

The cottage door creaked open and Dark walked in, stamping the snow off his boots. Sienna glanced up momentarily, beckoning him over. She stood in the kitchen area; a large circular room on the first floor. In the center of this room a section of floor had been sunk to accommodate a place for a cooking fire. Sienna currently held a piece of kindling in her hand, trying to encourage the fledging fire beneath her cooking pot to grow. 

Dark watched her vain efforts as he unloaded the stack of firewood he was carrying. He arranged the wood neatly in rows against the wall before coming to her aid. 

“Allow me,” Dark said, nudging her aside. 

Dark rubbed his palms together and sparks burst to life there, dancing along his fingers. He snapped the fingers on his left hand, creating a small flame that floated in his palm. Kneeling next to the dying fire, he thrust the palm with the flame in it beneath the cooking pot. Flames shot from his hand, engulfing the struggling fire and fortifying it. 

Satisfied, Dark stood and a solitary spark winked out on his pointer finger as Sienna watched, fascinated. As always, his hand remained unburned. Dark’s “specialty” in magic had always been fire. The control he maintained over it so effortlessly was almost unheard of. 

“I will always envy that.” Sienna sighed, nodding at his hands. 

Dark shrugged. “It’s not like you couldn’t learn it. I could teach you!” he suggested, grinning at the idea. 

Sienna laughed. “You have a natural talent for it. I would most likely burn myself on the first try!” 

She swept a stray curl out of her eyes, only to have it stubbornly fall back. Dark reached over and caught the strand of hair between his fingers. 

“You have enviable natural talent in other areas,” he murmured, securing the captive curl behind her ear. 

Sienna’s cheeks turned pink from his touch and she self-consciously ran a hand through her hair. “Like what?” 

“Being beautiful,” Dark replied. He grinned wider as the color of her face deepened to crimson. 

“Dark!” Sienna exclaimed. 

She hurried past him, busying herself with setting the small, wooden dining table. Dark chuckled to himself, bending down again to keep watch on the fire. Sienna stole glances at him over her shoulder as she moved about the kitchen. 

There had been a time when his touch had not elicited such a reaction from her. But they had been children then, and the touches of a child were innocent. Now that they were grown, however, every touch between them seemed to mean something. It frightened her to think of what that something might be. She dared not ask him for fear she was wrong. 

Several years ago, there had been something. Their childhood affection for each other had unsurprisingly carried over into their teenage years. However, as was also to be expected, any romance between them soon fizzled out. They hadn’t spoken of it, and the close friendship they’d shared had returned to replace it. If she was truthful with herself, though, she could admit that she still held a torch for him, and might always. What was still unclear was whether Dark still had any feelings left for her. 

Her musings were interrupted by Fierce’s arrival. She greeted him with the usual smile, becoming accustomed to seeing him as an adoptive big brother as Dark did. Fierce gave her what approximated a smile for him, settling himself in his usual chair. 

The table and chairs were old and worn; they had probably been carved by the original owner of the cottage. They hadn’t bothered to buy new furniture. Dark and Fierce had managed to fix up the old cottage and the leftover furnishings. They only had as much money as Dark could garner doing odd jobs in the nearby village. As such, any money they had was spent frugally on food and new clothes if Sienna could not mend them with a needle. 

Sienna seated herself, bringing with her the large bowl of soup that was their supper. She didn’t mind the modest surroundings; she had lived her entire life in them, and had grown accustomed to their small comforts. 

As she watched the pair of them eat—Dark with a fury a wolf would envy—she couldn’t help but wonder how strange it must be for Fierce to adjust to the changes. He had never complained, but it couldn’t be comfortable to live this simple life after having been a god. 

Fierce looked up from his modest bowl of broth. He held his spoon with the grace of a king. His table manners were simply impeccable. They would make any nobleman’s tutor cry tears of joy. 

“Yes, Sienna?” he asked politely. 

“Um…ahh, how is the soup?” she stammered, embarrassed that she had been caught staring. 

“Excellent. Thank you.” 

Sienna nodded her thanks, turning her gaze sheepishly back to her own bowl. They finished their dinner and Dark and Sienna began cleaning up. As they worked, Fierce slipped out the back door of the kitchen. 

The earth-bound god cast a glance over his shoulder. The two teenagers were busy cleaning the dinner table, chatting idly. He smiled. At least they kept busy. He strolled out into the night, filling his lungs with a deep breath of air. It wasn’t truly necessary…he just enjoyed the simple feeling of it. The inhale of cool air shocking his insides, the exhale a small relief as the air escaped again. 

It has been a long time since I’ve felt this human, he mused to himself. Tapping a thoughtful finger against his chin, he moved soundlessly through the mountain forest. 

After a few minutes of walking, he came upon a clearing in the trees. He settled himself cross-legged in the center, his usual meditation spot. The trees here grew oddly close together, bending in such a way that they seemed to enclose the tiny space; protecting it. The branches were barren now with their leaves stripped by winter and laid to rest under the blanket of snow. 

Fierce took another deep breath, holding on to the air in his lungs as long as possible. He exhaled slowly, his breath crystallizing in the air in front of him, displaying his mortality. He felt another smile form on his lips. At least mortality hadn’t stripped him of all his powers. 

Fierce closed his eyes, seeking the presence he had felt earlier in the day. A presence that had not been felt in seven years. A spark that had winked out as the world was engulfed by darkness. 

You have been sleeping too long, Fierce thought. It is time you returned… 

Fierce’s eyes opened again as he reached out and pulled the sleeping spirit back into the world. 

Hyrule needs you…Hero of Time. 

**~oOo~**

When Link next opened his eyes, he was back in the Temple of Time, standing in front of the Master Sword’s pedestal. He blinked, clearing away the out-of-body feeling that still clung to him. He could see the larger room just beyond the door to the Master Sword’s resting place. The huge cathedral was empty; exactly the same as he’d left it. 

Have seven years really passed? 

Taking a deep breath, Link walked forward, back towards the main room. His ears twitched as he heard a noise behind him. He wouldn’t have heard it if the cathedral hadn’t been so quiet. Whoever it was, they were virtually silent on their feet. 

Link spun, drawing his sword instinctively. The person stepped out of the shadows and Link stopped. It was a boy, around his own age. He was unarmed. Link lowered his sword an inch, but stayed wary of the newcomer. 

He moved in front of the pedestal, crossing his arms across his chest. “I’ve been waiting for you, Hero of Time.” 

Link’s eyes widened in surprise. The boy’s voice was muffled by a fraying, greyed scarf he had secured around his neck. It covered the bottom half of his face. His head was covered by a bandana. Link could only see that the boy had wisps of blonde hair struggling to be free of the bandana, and darker skin. He was a strange-looking boy. His eyes, most of all. His irises were a deep shade of red. 

“Who are you?” Link demanded. 

The boy blinked. “I am Sheik, survivor of the Sheikahs.” 

Link straightened from his defensive stance. “A Sheikah?” 

He had only ever met one Sheikah—Impa. He didn’t know much about them except that most people considered them to be extinct. They were a mysterious race that had mastered the arts of both disciplines of magic. They were said to be particularly powerful, even gifted with knowledge of the future. 

“Yes,” Sheik replied. “I am here to guide the Hero of Time.” 

“Guide me, what are you talking about?” Link asked, still skeptical of the young man. 

The stranger nodded. “You seek the Sages, do you not?” 

Link stiffened. “Yes…you know where to find them?” 

Sheik nodded. “The first Sage is waiting in the Forest Temple. The Sage is a girl I am sure you know. The forest has been overrun by evil, and her power has been sapped.” 

Link knew immediately who Sheik must be referring to. “Saria!” he exclaimed. “I have to go find her!” 

“Wait,” Sheik said, stopping Link in his tracks. “As you are now, you cannot gain entrance to the Temple.” 

Link frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“If you believe what I am saying, you must head first to Kakariko village. You will find what you need there.” 

Link studied Sheik, trying to read what he could of his face. Why was he being deliberately vague? Link took a step towards Sheik, and the boy immediately leaped backwards with acrobatic fluidity. Shocked, Link watched as Sheik threw something to the floor. The object emitted a flash of light that blinded Link. When he could see again, Sheik was gone. 

“What the—“ 

“Link!” 

Link spun on his heel, recognizing this voice. “Navi!” 

The tiny blue fairy sped towards him, flying in circles around his head. The high-pitched sound of bells came from her; fairy laughter. 

Link laughed as Navi landed on his nose, her tiny fairy features visible now as he crossed his eyes. “Navi! What are you doing here?” 

“Same as you,” she replied, flying away from his face so he could uncross his eyes. “I’m glad to see you’re back in one piece!” 

Link laughed again. “Yeah, me too,” 

“I like the new outfit, by the way,” Navi commented, indicating his clothes. 

“Hunh?” Link looked down. He’d barely taken notice of the upgrades to his wardrobe. 

He still wore his customary green tunic, with a few extras. Underneath he wore chainmail, as well as a simple white shirt with a collar that stuck out of the front of his tunic. On his hands he wore strong leather gauntlets. He also wore white riding pants and sturdy traveling boots on his feet. Around his waist he found his pouches and other items still tied securely to his belt. Finally, on his back rested the Master Sword and his Hylian shield. 

Navi flitted around him, inspecting the changes. “Hmm. You still look like the same old Link to me. Just grown up.” 

Link laughed again. “It’s kind of nice, knowing I still look like me.” 

Navi giggled. “Well of course, who else would you look like?” 

Link’s expression turned more serious as he remembered Rauru’s words. “There’s a lot to fill you in on, Navi,” he told his fairy companion. 

“I know,” she said, her bell-like voice echoing in the domed room. “You can tell me on the way to Kakariko. It’ll take a few days to walk there.” 

“Kakariko?” 

Navi rolled her eyes, zinging close to his face. “I heard what that Sheikah boy said. You have to go to Kakariko village.” 

Link looked up at her. “You trust him?” 

Navi’s tiny shoulders lifted in a shrug. “He’s a Sheikah, that much I could tell. They’re a bit strange, but they don’t make a habit of lying.” 

“I guess we’ll need whatever is in Kakariko village to save Saria…” Link mused. 

“Well, let’s get going!” 

Letting out the habitual sigh at Navi’s hop-to attitude, yet finding himself comforted by the small familiarity, Link let the tiny fairy lead him out of the cathedral and back into the world he’d left behind for the last seven years.


	21. Ghosts

Ganondorf’s eyes snapped open. He had grown accustomed to sleeping lightly; he held no shortage of enemies. He rose slowly, soundlessly, like a mummy from its tomb. Not even the sound of his breathing was heard. His sharp ears picked up no sounds of intrusion, so he swung from his bed and pushed aside the heavy curtain that encircled the sleeping platform. 

The room was, of course, shrouded in darkness. With barely a flick of his hand the candles mounted on the wall burst into life as he fitted his robe around his shoulders. Striding with more alertness than those typically just rising from sleep to his desk, he reached for a flask stowed in one of its drawers. He took a long, indulgent swig before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and returning the flask. 

He sighed, walking to the window. His sleep these past few months had been restless. He had often woken like this, on edge, unsure of what had roused him. He clenched his fist and stared at the back of his hand. Once again, the golden symbol there was glowing eerily in the candlelight. 

Ganondorf groaned and pressed a hand against the glass, resting his forehead against his clenched fist. He took a long deep breath through his nose, trying to suppress the images that still flashed through his mind, even in wakefulness. 

_You are the King of Hyrule,_ he chastised himself, _You have defeated hordes of armies, you have conquered the land of Hyrule, you have assassinated kings…you can rid yourself these ridiculous dreams._

And ridiculous they were, for nightmares had never intruded upon his sleep before. In all his years, from his childhood in the Gerudo desert to his youth of bloodshed and death…to this: being the conqueror of the great kingdom of Hyrule. His bloody rise to power had never once bothered his conscience. He had been born a warrior, and he would die one as well. Killing those that got in his way was simply necessary in order to attain his goal. 

But the nightmare persisted. It brought on an emotion entirely unfamiliar to the king: fear. A dark, cold force coiling within him and tightening, twisting ever tighter until it felt like it was suffocating him. He would not allow it to beat him. He would not allow his power to be stripped away from him by someone so…insignificant. 

After a few minutes of meditating, the king returned to his bed, satisfied that the nightmares that had plagued him these several nights had been suppressed. As he lay back down, a jolt of electricity shot through his hand, surprising him. He grimaced, ignoring the tingling sensation and letting sleep enfold him once more. 

Little did the tyrant king know that this tingle signaled the arrival of his enemy. The one that haunted his nightmares had returned to the earthly world. The one Ganondorf feared above all others. The figure clad in green. 

**~oOo~**

_Northeast Hyrule, bank of Zora’s river_

Link pulled his green tunic, newly clean, from the river. He wrung it out with care before laying it on the grassy bank to dry. Next to it he’d placed his boots, gauntlets, sword and shield in a heap. Link kept on his white undershirt and tan riding pants. Even though there was no one else around, he decided to remain dressed for Navi’s sake. His laundry finished, he flopped onto his back, letting the mild spring sun warm his face. 

They’d been traveling for two days, and were understandably weary. They’d had to keep off the main roads, since Ganondorf’s guards were everywhere. It had taken careful sleuthing to get out of Castle Town undetected. The sight of the town had shocked him, at first. It was utterly destroyed. Not a single soul was left. The market was overrun with Ganondorf’s monsters. Link hadn’t been able to believe his eyes. 

According to Navi, much of Hyrule had met with this same fate. She assured him that Kakariko was a safe haven, though. Link sighed, allowing his eyes to drift close for a short rest. Navi was sure they’d reach Kakariko by nightfall. He was anxious to get there. 

At least walking is much faster in this new body, he thought, wiggling his bare toes. It still felt strange. That’s because my legs are much longer, he thought to himself, I’m taller now. 

“Link?” 

The teen sat up, frowning at the disturbance. Navi was diving in and out of the murky river—her version of taking a bath. The water level was much lower than he remembered. Another sign of the immense changes. 

“What is it?” he asked, reaching for his sword. Being a fairy, Navi had an uncanny sense of danger, which came in handy if anyone tried to sneak up on Link. 

“Are you finished? We should get going as soon as possible.” Navi fluttered over, all business. 

“My clothes are still drying…” Link said, wanting to go back to his nap despite his anxiousness to hurry as well. 

Navi paused. “Oh. Well, why don’t you practice with your sword for now then?” 

Link groaned. “I practiced all the way from Castle Town! I know how to use a blade, Navi!” 

Navi tsked. “You know how to use it, but you’re not used to your body yet. Your muscles have to accustom themselves to your sword.” 

Link raised an arm and flexed his bicep, admiring his new strength. “My muscles are just fine.” He laughed as Navi sighed in exasperation. 

The tiny fairy flew over, cocking a hip and looking down at him with slight disapproval. “You’ll only improve through practice. Right now, you’re still a scrawny forest kid with a shiny new toy. You have a long way to go.” 

“I am not scrawny!” Link protested. 

Navi sighed again and landed on Link’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Link. For Hyrule it may have been seven years, but for you, you’ve gone from being a Kokiri to the Hero of Time overnight. This is going to take some getting used to…your body has grown up, but your mind is still in the past.” 

Link’s shoulders slumped as he realized she was right. He might look like an adult, but he still thought like a boy. “Okay, Navi. Let’s practice, then.” 

Navi clapped her hands, jumping off Link’s shoulder. “Good then! All right, let’s start with the basics, shall we?” 

Link trained for what felt like hours, Navi supervising and giving bits of advice where she could. The Master Sword still felt foreign in his hands, but the more he practiced, the more familiar it became. Even his newfound muscles, as disconcerting as they were, began to feel like his own rather than those of a stranger’s. He felt like a caterpillar that had been transformed into a butterfly in an instant, instead of weaving a protective cocoon and changing gradually. He hadn’t been given time to react to the shock of his altered form. 

Link finished another series of moves for Navi. She praised him, noting his improvement. Link leaned on the hilt of the blade, catching his breath. This adult body was certainly better equipped to handle the momentous job of saving Hyrule. But even now, he felt the seeds of doubt planting themselves in his mind. Was he ready to be the Hero of Time? 

He’d told Rauru that he understood his destiny. He wasn’t certain that he did, though. What did it mean to be the Hero of Time? The words of his guardian, the Great Deku Tree, floated into his mind. 

Thou must never allow the desert man to lay his hands on the sacred Triforce…That evil man who cast the death curse upon me… 

Link flinched at the memory. He had failed him. Ganondorf had seized the Triforce and used its power to destroy Hyrule. How was he supposed to save Hyrule when he was responsible for its current state? 

“Are you all right, Link?” Navi asked, floating over to him, concern written on her tiny fairy features. 

“Yes. I’m fine. Let’s keep practicing.” Link quickly straightened, not wanting to let Navi know of his fears. 

The odd pair practiced for an hour more before Link retrieved his tunic and they began walking towards the northeast once again. The sun was low on the horizon when Link and his fairy companion reached Kakariko village. Excitedly, Link rushed towards the town gate. It, at least, had not changed in the least. 

The village was one of Hyrule’s oldest. It had been built even before Castle Town. As Impa had told him, it was the village where she was born and raised, and it was rumored that the entire Sheikah clan had once resided there. As far as anyone knew, however, the modest village no longer had any Sheikah residents. 

Link was not surprised to see the town hadn’t changed much. It had grown in size considerably, due to the amount of townspeople whose homes had been destroyed seeking refuge in Kakariko. Castle Town had become a ghost town in a literal sense. Poes floated through the desecrated cemeteries, and ReDeads roamed every dark alley, their chilling moans echoing from every street. Shocked and horrified, Link and Navi had managed to evade the creatures, escaping through the non-existent town gate. 

Reeling from the dramatic change, Link had agreed with Navi’s guess that the townspeople, if any had survived, had likely fled to Kakariko. Now that they had arrived, this theory proved correct. 

“I wonder if there’s an inn we can stay at?” Navi wondered aloud, hiding safely in Link’s hat. 

Link walked past house after house, searching for an inn or a place to stay. As the sun set, villagers moved inside, the lights inside their homes alighting and making the street seem less cold and empty. Few people walked the streets with the young man. Link found himself frowning as he passed by a lit window. Inside he could see a family sitting down for dinner. His heart contracted as he remembered his own tree house in Kokiri forest and his own warm, safe bed. 

Navi sensed his stillness. “Link?” she peeked out from under his hat. 

“Stay hidden,” he murmured, eyeing the strangers on the street corners. “I know a place we can stay.” 

Navi ducked back under a lock of blonde hair, staying quiet as Link broke into a jog. He followed streets that he recognized, managing to make his way to the northeast corner of the town. To his right, the rock wall stretched straight up, meeting the starry night sky. In front of him loomed the shadowy figure of the windmill. Kakariko was nestled in an enclosed valley at the foot of Death Mountain. There were only three ways in or out. One was the rocky incline Link and Navi had come in by, the second was the treacherous Death Mountain pass. The third was the open plains behind the windmill. Link had never explored that particular area of Hyrule, but he had always wished to see what was out there. 

Link tore his gaze from the quietly creaking windmill. He tried opening the wrought-iron gate in front of him, but the lock had rusted over from disuse and wouldn’t budge. Confused, Link turned and hopped over the fence, entering Kakariko graveyard. 

“You can come out, Navi,” Link whispered. “No one’s here.” 

Navi obliged, buzzing out of his hat to survey her surroundings. She froze, rounding on Link. “Link! What are we doing in the graveyard!?” 

Link kept walking along one of the small dirt pathways that criss-crossed the entire yard. The place was completely deserted, much to his surprise. None of the lanterns had been lit, and the grave keeper’s house was suspiciously dark as well. 

Navi continued to talk as Link explored. “You’re not…you’re not intending to sleep here, are you? In the graveyard?” 

Link let out a low chuckle. “Of course not, Navi! We can sleep at Dampé’s house, I’m sure he won’t mind…” 

Navi flew in front of Link’s face, stopping him in his tracks. “The grave keeper’s house? Link…what if he doesn’t recognize you? It’s been seven years.” 

Link paused. He hadn’t thought of that. “Well…it’s worth a try.” 

They trudged on towards the tiny shack that Link’s friend called home. The old grave keeper had chosen to live in the tool shed rather than live in a house in the village. The villagers were wary of him at best, and feared or were disgusted by him at worst. Because of a childhood accident, Dampé’s face had been hideously disfigured. The man was a gentle soul though, cheerful and caring. Link simply couldn’t believe the grounds Dampé had cared for so tenderly had become so overgrown. 

Weeds had overtaken the grass, snagging at Link’s boots. Moss and lichen encroached upon the carefully crafted headstones, trailing into cracks and fissures that hadn’t been present in the stone before. The pathways between graves had become bumpy and rocky, the small fences that lined them were rotted and falling apart. Not a single headstone was accompanied by a bouquet of flowers, brought by a visitor for their loved ones. It appeared as if no one had visited the grave yard in some time. 

Navi said the question on both their minds aloud. “What happened here?” 

Link had reached the door to Dampé’s shack. He tried knocking. When no one answered, he tried again, louder. Finally, he tried the door knob and was surprised to find it was unlocked. Navi floated warily behind him as he stepped into the tiny one-room shed. The place was empty. Judging by the cobwebs and dust that decorated every corner and every shelf, it had been for a long time. 

“Dampé?” Link called, even though he could see there was no one. 

No answer. 

Navi floated over to the grave keeper’s desk, the only possession Dampé owned aside from his bed, a wooden chair and a small, lopsided bookcase. She dusted off a lantern that stood on the desk and then used a small amount of her magic to light the candle inside. 

“Maybe he finally moved into the village,” Link said, mostly to himself. 

Navi didn’t say what was on her mind, and Link didn’t ask. Seeing Navi struggling to lift the lantern that was much too heavy for her, Link picked it up and set it down next to the vacant bed. Silently, he pulled off his boots, followed by his shield, sword, gauntlets and tunic. He stowed all of his possessions under the bed, leaving his hat next to the lumpy old pillow for Navi to curl up in. 

Navi watched as Link bolted the door closed, a frown creasing her delicate face. She snuggled into Link’s hat, her wings folding over her. Link crawled under the threadbare blanket, brushing a curious spider away as he laid his head on the pillow. 

For several minutes, neither one spoke. The lantern light cast flickering shadows on the wall. Link rolled on to his side, tossing the pillow aside and using his arm to cradle his head instead. 

“Goodnight, Link,” Navi whispered, reaching out a small hand and placing it on Link’s blonde head. He was turned away from her, so she couldn’t see his face. 

Link was quiet for several moments. “Goodnight, Navi.” 

Eventually, the lantern light faded and winked out. Darkness settled in once again. The spiders returned to their cobwebs. Outside, a wolf was howling, the haunting noise drifting down into the valley and disturbing Kakariko’s peaceful rest. 

**~oOo~**

_Kakariko village, Bowyer Street_

The village of Kakariko was fairly peaceful. Relatively free of crime, even as Ganondorf’s allies grew in number, spreading evil throughout Hyrule. All of Hyrule was under the tyrant’s control. Kakariko remained blessedly ignored by, if not free of, Ganondorf. The false king had better things to do than terrorize the citizens of the town. Still, his eyes were everywhere. 

Bomberd Keynes was one of the few who went out at night nowadays. Well, aside from that depressing kid with the punk hairstyle who rambled on about how disgusting the world was whenever anyone tried to talk to him. Nobody wanted to risk annoying one of Ganondorf’s guards and be sent to the castle. Anyone who was sent there never came back. This particular night, Bomberd had a good reason to be out after dusk though. If insomnia could be counted as a good excuse among the king’s guard patrols. 

Keynes was a thin man, with dark hair and a small moustache. He didn’t look like much, but he’d been in his fair share of fights and was confident in his hidden strength. He liked to tell himself if the guards ever caught him out when he shouldn’t be that he could fight them all. In reality, whenever a patrol passed by, he hid and waited anxiously for them to pass. Prowling the streets at night had become so much less fun since Ganondorf had arrived. 

The world really is gloomy tonight…maybe that punk freak is right… 

Bomberd stopped as he heard the booted footsteps of the patrol approaching. Fighting back a shriek of terror, he vaulted over a fence and ducked behind a nearby rock. The truth was, Keynes was skittish and cowardly by nature. 

I wish I was brave…he thought, Maybe then people would believe I was that silly masked person who jumps around attacking the guards at night. The rumors are growing. I wonder who it is? 

He was also a fan of telling tall tales; mostly ones that exaggerated his nightly strolls into grand adventures that depicted him as a courageous and noble hero. 

Bomberd breathed a sigh of relief as the patrol passed his hiding place without stopping. He stood up from behind the rock. It turned out not to be a rock at all, but a headstone. Keynes only swallowed his second scream of the night because he had a fear of ghosts. 

Keynes turned towards the graveyard’s iron gate, his fear beginning to subside. What he saw made him stop dead in his tracks and his fear skyrocket. The pale, disfigured silhouette of Dampé the grave keeper stood—no, floated—mere feet from Bomberd. The ghost grinned, making his face seem even more terrifying. Bomberd failed to suppress the scream that now burst out of his mouth. 

“G-g-ghost!” He was so paralyzed with fear the man could do nothing then but pass out. 

Before unconsciousness claimed him, he had a moment to wonder what it was the grave keeper’s ghost held in its spectral hand, and to plead with the gods that it wouldn’t possess him. 

**~oOo~**

When Link awoke the following morning, it took him a moment to remember where he was. Somehow he managed to get up and re-light the lantern without opening his eyes. When he did, the memory of the previous evening came flooding back to him. 

“Oh,” was all he said, a pang of grief for his friend seizing him. 

Link dressed, leaving his sword and shield on the bed as he bent down next to the small oven in the corner. He reached an arm up and opened the flue of the chimney, then rummaged in his pack for something to eat. 

Navi stirred in his hat, which still lay on the bed. “Link?” she mumbled sleepily. 

“Here,” he called. “Just making breakfast.” 

Navi flew over to him, resting on his right shoulder as he built a fire in the oven. Gently, she laid a hand on his cheek. “I’m sorry about Dampé, I know he was your friend.” 

Link nodded. “It’s all right.” 

Navi paused. “We should head back to the forest, then.” 

“Not yet.” 

Navi was surprised. “Why not?” 

“Sheik told me there was something in the village that I need to enter the Forest Temple. I have to stay here until I find it,” Link explained. 

“Oh, of course,” Navi said, remembering the mysterious Sheikah’s words. 

“Also, there’s one more thing I have to do,” Link added. 

“What’s that?” the fairy asked him. 

A fire was now roaring in the small stone oven. Link pulled several strips of meat from his pack and set them on the metal cooking rack. He then walked over to the grave keeper’s bed, reaching underneath for the man’s tools. 

Shovel and other implements in hand, Link headed for the door. “I’m going to honor his memory,” Link replied. 

The entire day Link worked in the graveyard, pulling up weeds, clearing away bracken from the grave plots and cleaning the headstones. He worked over the pathways, smoothing them out, and he repaired all the broken fences. He cut the grass, trimmed the overgrown bushes, and planted flowers. He only stopped to eat or catch his breath. 

By the time the sun started to set, the graveyard was a far cry from the gloomy, depressing ghost haunt it had been. It was clean, tidy…serene. It looked as if Dampé himself had come back from the dead. 

Navi hovered near Link’s left ear as he washed his dirty hands in the water basin. “The graveyard looks amazing, Link. Dampé would be pleased with your work.” 

Link wiped his brow with a wet cloth. “I hope so,” he said, looking over his efforts. 

“Come on,” Navi urged, tugging on his ear. “You’ve earned a break and a hot meal. Let’s go into town and look for an inn.” 

Link obliged, stowing his sword in the grave keeper’s house and locking the door behind him. He carried only his pack with him, pulling out the few rupees he had with him and heading into the town center. 

During the day, the market was quite busy. With Navi hiding in his hat, Link walked through the main streets, navigating through the throng of townspeople. He passed by several inns and various eateries without going in. The price lists on display in the windows proved to be too daunting for his limited cash supply. 

Link passed by a fruit stand and his stomach rumbled, reminding him of another reason he needed money. “I guess we’ll have to stock up on food before we leave town. Where am I going to get the money, though?” Link wondered aloud. 

“Maybe you can find a job somewhere?” Navi wondered, her voice muffled inside his hat. 

Link raised his eyebrows even though Navi couldn’t see his face. “Who would hire me? It’s not like anyone’s going to pay me for taking care of the graveyard.” 

Navi snuck a peek out from under Link’s hat. “There’s a notice board over there! Maybe there are some job postings.” 

Link hurried over to the sign she pointed out. There were several community notice boards throughout the town. Employers could post job offerings and shops could post ads and notices of sales, among other things. There were only three posters pinned to the board at the moment. Two were notices of new shops opening up in the coming week, and the third was a notice from the town’s captain of the guard. Link examined the poster more closely. 

It read: **WANTED, Masked Night Prowler, REWARD 1000 rps.**

“Who’s the Masked Night Prowler?” Link asked the fairy hiding under his hat. 

An old man reading the board next to Link scoffed at his question. “The Night Prowler? Nobody knows. He’s some idiot who runs around at night and sabotages the King’s guard patrols.” 

“The guard patrol…” Link mused. “Nobody knows who he is? Where does he live?” 

The old man guffawed and slapped Link on the shoulder. “He’s nobody, young man. Although that moron, Keynes, certainly fancies himself the fiend.” 

He continued to laugh as Link pressed, “Keynes? Do you know where I can find him?” 

“Bomberd Keynes. He frequents the bar right down there.” He pointed a finger down the adjacent alley. “Wouldn’t trust his latest stories, though. The more he drinks the taller the tales get.” 

With that, the old man shuffled off to continue his shopping. Link turned and darted down the side street he had indicated. A small nondescript bar stood on the next street corner. A weathered wooden sign hung over the black door with the words The Angry Deku Scrub written in red lettering. 

Cautiously, Link pushed the door open and peered inside. It was mostly empty. The only patrons were a group of men laughing rather uproariously in the far corner. Link remained awkwardly in the doorway. He’d never been in a bar before. Of course, now he was old enough so he was technically permitted… 

“Can I help you, young man?” 

Link started when he realized the man tending bar was talking to him. He took a seat at the counter, and the man waited expectantly for him to order. 

“I’ll have a…” Link froze, realizing he had no idea what to say. “Ale,” he finished lamely. 

The bartender cocked an eyebrow but said nothing. He reached under the counter and grabbed a mug, filling it with amber liquid and sliding it over to Link. 

He took it, bringing it to his face to sniff it before he took a sip. “Um, do you know a Bomberd Keynes?” Link asked hopefully. 

The bartender chuckled and pointed to the group of men in the corner. “He’s over there.” 

Link slid off the bar stool and approached the group of men, catching snippets of the conversation. 

“I’m telling you, I saw him! I saw the man’s ghost!” A moustached man in the center of the group was gesturing emphatically. The rest were laughing uproariously at his claims. 

“Hah! That’s one I’ve never heard before, Bomberd.” 

“How much have you been drinking, Keynes!?” 

The man named Keynes continued to protest. “He was see-through! For Din’s sake, he was floating above his grave! Dampé the grave keeper’s ghost, I swear to you!” 

Link edged closer, his interest piqued upon hearing Dampé’s name mentioned. 

“Dampé? Bomberd, the man’s been dead for years!” exclaimed one of the patrons, chuckling as he took a swig of beer. 

Keynes seemed unperturbed by the laughing, he was mostly just anxious. “He wanted me to follow him…into the grave.” Keynes shuddered at the memory. 

“He wanted you to follow him?” Link asked, eyebrow raised. 

Keynes zeroed in on Link, meeting his eyes. Keynes’s eyes were bloodshot, like he hadn’t slept last night. “Yes…it looked like he was holding some kind of treasure!” 

Keynes never did manage to convince any of _The Deku Scrub’s_ patrons that his story was true. But he never forgot his traumatic ghost encounter. It occurred to him later that evening that the young man with the blonde hair who’d rushed out the door after hearing about Dampé’s treasure might be in trouble. Maybe the grave keeper’s ghost would possess him? With a shake of his head and a sip of his drink, he turned back to his fellow patrons, joining in the laughter as they ridiculed the latest drunken tale.


	22. Cloak and Dagger

Kakariko cemetery had always been a peaceful corner of the mountainside village—recent ghost sightings notwithstanding. Nestled at the northeast edge of the village, the graveyard was tucked right at the edge of the nearby forest. Because of the proximity, a number of forest animals ventured into the cemetery plots from time to time. Deer would nibble on clumps of overgrown grass, rodents and birds would hunt for any tidbits of food they could find. 

At nighttime, the cemetery was quiet. Occasionally, a nocturnal bird would pass by, seeking a short rest on one of the fences before alighting again. Tonight the only visitor was a lone owl, perched calmly on a headstone in the far corner of the graveyard. The yard was still. So still, in fact, that the great bird began to lull off. 

A rumbling underneath the headstone jolted the owl awake. Peering inquisitively at the mound of dirt beneath it, the owl noticed nothing amiss. Ruffling its feathers, the bird settled itself once again and closed its eyes. The rumbling movement disturbed the owl once again a few moments later. It hooted indignantly, and a second later a hand burst from the plot of dirt beneath the headstone. The owl whirled, shocked, flying off into the night and hooting loudly. 

The hand clawed its way free of the dirt, pulling the body that belonged to it free of the grave. Coughing, Link rolled onto his back, staring up at the star-speckled sky. Navi fluttered over to him from her hiding place behind a gravestone. 

"Link! Are you all right?" 

Catching his breath, Link sat up with a groan. "Yeah, I'm fine, Navi." 

"Did you get it?" the tiny fairy asked. 

Link nodded, he'd stowed the item safely in his tunic and brought it out for Navi to see. The fairy bobbed around it, examining the foreign item in confusion. 

"Uhh…what is it?" Navi asked. 

Link hefted the item in his hands. "I was hoping you could tell me." 

It was fairly small and constructed from strong metals. It had a small handle wrapped with leather for grip that fit nicely in Link's hand. Attached to that was a spindle-like portion that contained a spring-loaded metal chain. The end of the chain ended in a spearhead. Link had already noticed the release button on the handle portion of the weapon. He held it out and pulled the trigger, sending the spearhead rocketing from its place. Link jumped as the spearhead buried itself in the soft cemetery dirt, the metal chain quivering. 

Navi had flown inside Link's hat in fear, but slowly emerged now to see the consequence of Link's experimentation. "What in Nayru's name!?" the tiny fairy exclaimed. 

Link gave the chain a tug and the spearhead pulled free, bringing dirt along with it. Tentatively, Link flicked the trigger back; immediately the chain was yanked back, rewinding around the spindle with the spearhead safely in place once again. 

He laughed at Navi's incredulous expression. "Well that was…fun," he said, still grinning. 

"Fun!?" 

"Come on, let's see what else it does!" 

For the next hour or so, Navi was helplessly dragged along as Link's inner child took over. He quickly mastered the item, which Dampé had aptly named the "hook shot," using it to pull himself on top of the old grave keeper's house and into surrounding trees. The chain was plenty sturdy enough to carry Link's weight, and was long enough that he could reach the top of most buildings in a single shot. 

The old grave keeper had been waiting for him deep inside the grave. Rather than finding a casket, Link had fallen several feet into the earth, landing in a mysterious, labyrinthine cave that Dampé now called home. The grave keeper had been floating aimlessly like a Poe, carrying the same kind of lantern that the dark spirits bore with them. Link had been cautious at first, thinking his friend's spirit had become malevolent. The ghost had been glad to see him, though, recognizing Link and greeting him as a friend. 

After passing on his long-lost treasure, Dampé had simply vanished, his business concluded. Link had caught a glimpse of the void his friend's spirit had passed through on its way to eternal rest. The spirit had floated on into what looked like a duplicate of Kakariko graveyard, though devoid of life and color. Even the single second's glance into the world of the dead had chilled Link. 

His excitement over the hook shot past, Link wandered into Kakariko to buy more food for the journey. Navi had reminded him of the need to travel back to Kokiri forest and help Saria. As much as Link longed to see his friend again, his mood had visibly darkened. When he had left his childhood home, he hadn't been sure if he would ever go back. He had felt such a strong pull towards Hyrule…it hadn't even occurred to him to go see his old friends. And now, seven years had passed. Would they even remember him? Probably not, he had never really fit in. He had never really belonged there anyways… 

His thoughts were interrupted by Navi. "Link! Are you ready to go?" 

Startled, Link did a quick check of his pack; it was stocked full of supplies for travel, as well as food, water, a warm cloak, a small knife, and the hook shot. The boomerang and slingshot he'd stored in Dampé's house, not quite sure if he'd have use for either of them. The key to the grave keeper's hut he kept with him. 

"Yep," he replied, hefting the pack onto his back over the Master Sword's sheath. 

He secured his shield over the pack, shifting to make sure everything was ready for travel. It would take several days to make it back to Kokiri forest, and even longer if Link didn't take the main roads. Navi had cautioned him against this, saying that it wasn't safe. Even so, Link wanted to try; he wanted to find out more of what Ganondorf had done to his home. 

**~oOo~ **

_Greywood Road, North Clocktown_

"Congratulations," the man told him, extending one mammoth hand towards him, palm open and waiting. "I have no doubts that you will make a fine home for yourself here, young man." 

Dark straightened from his position leaning over the desk. He rolled up the title deed in front of him, newly decorated with his signature, and handed it to the large man standing behind the desk. "Thank you." 

The lack of enthusiasm in Dark's voice irked the man. "It's quite a large property for a single person," he continued, taking the deed from Dark. "Or was there someone in mind when you decided on this house?" he chuckled to himself, ignoring Dark's slanted look. 

Dark looked around the room; it was beautiful. It was precisely why he'd chosen this house. It was a bit older, but spacious and cozy, tucked away into a quiet corner of North-West Clocktown. It would require minimum renovations, but Dark was prepared to take on the task. The end result was more than worth it. 

"I did have someone in mind…" he muttered, quietly enough that the salesman wouldn't hear. 

The man continued to chat idly, but Dark mostly ignored him as they did a final tour of the house. He wasn't a particularly social person, especially when it came to strangers. After all, what did he have to say to others? Absolutely nothing. Dark sighed. Moving to Clocktown was the right thing to do. He was a grown man, and couldn't rely on Fierce's hospitality forever. And, as Sienna frequently reminded him, it would do him good to be around the rest of the world, instead of secluded in a cottage in Snowhead. 

"Ah, here we are. The master bedroom, once again. However, the furnishings have been brought in this time around." 

Dark peered around the man's massive frame to look into the room. The last time he'd seen it, it had been empty. His eyes widened as he took it all in. The light blue walls and the abundance of natural light coming in through the glass balcony doors gave the room a serene feel. The large four-poster bed dominated the space across from the doors, the bedspread sprinkled with soft sunlight. It stood proudly flanked by two small tables on either side of the headboard. On the far side was the dark wood wardrobe and desk, contrasting nicely with the gentle blue of the wall. Next to these was a second door leading to the master bath. The flooring was also wood, smoothed down from years of use. In the opposite corner near the glass doors was a small sitting area, boasting a two large armchairs and a new fireplace. 

Dark's companion strode forward, pushing the curtains further back from the balcony doors to let in the maximum amount of light. "A perfect combination of new and old," he sighed, fondly stroking a hand down the dark blue curtain. "And, of course, nothing beats a view like that." He threw open the doors of the balcony, admitting the fresh spring breeze. 

Dark walked towards the balcony, stepping out to admire the sight. "It's lovely," he admitted, finding a smile sneaking onto his face in spite of himself. 

From this vantage point he could see the sleepy neighbourhood of North Clocktown. He could even see the community park. Perhaps the best feature was its proximity to the city walls. Dark could see right over them, into the lush, green expanses of Termina Field. It was a breathtaking sight. A picturesque plain, dotted with smaller towns and villages, gave way to rolling green hills, rich with life, before rising into the Snowhead peaks. Dark smiled; it was precisely why he'd chosen to live on the north side of town. 

"It is to your satisfaction?" 

Dark turned to meet the man's round face and, in his opinion, too-cheerful eyes. "Yes, completely." 

The man chuckled again. "Excellent. Shall we see the rest of the house?" 

They toured the rest of the second floor before moving back to the first and concluding the tour, giving Dark time to admire the house with all its furnishings. Now that it was ready for him to move into, all he had left to do was pack up his belongings at the Snowhead cottage and say goodbye. 

His heart panged at the thought. He would miss his brother; Snowhead was a long journey from Termina's capital. Even though Fierce had taught him the warping spell, enabling him to travel as instantaneously as he liked, the distance still felt like the deepest and widest of chasms. And Sienna…what if she refused him? He still hadn't asked her to move to Clocktown with him. She seemed happy where she was, but Dark was certain that living here would be much more agreeable with his best friend there with him. 

The salesman handed him the key before taking his leave. He'd come here by carriage, one of the fastest methods of transportation within the city. And one of the most expensive. Dark preferred using magic. Of course, the magic pool in Termina was thinner than in Hyrule, so it wasn't a luxury most people had. 

Dark sighed again, fitting the key into the newly installed lock. He pocketed the bit of metal, feeling strangely happy about the results of the day. It had taken him most of the afternoon to settle the deed and make sure everything was in order for his impending move. He'd also had several meetings that morning about jobs in town. Sundown was rapidly approaching now, and Dark thanked the goddesses he didn't have to travel across Termina by night. It had been rumored that the roads had been plagued by bandits recently. Not as much of an issue for Dark, but it would make him late for dinner, and Sienna would have his head. 

He pulled his cloak tightly around his shoulders, flipping up the hood at the back to cover his face. Ducking into the alleyway beside his new home, he took his usual deep breath, feeling the familiar tingling sensation. He was by no means an expert on magic—one would have to be trained at the academy for that—but Fierce had been an excellent teacher. Over the years, Dark had mastered a small set of magical skills; enough to get him by. Perhaps the most useful one was the spell named for the third goddess, Farore's Wind. The warping spell. 

One of the hardest spells to master for its complexity, but it was undeniably convenient. Apprentice mages at the academy often raised funds for their schooling by offering less well-trained citizens their services, warping them almost anywhere in the world for a small fee. This was a handy service if one had to travel a long distance and had packed lightly. It was difficult for an apprentice to warp large parties, since all the extra weight added up. Most people used caravans or carriages when traveling long distances with a surplus of luggage. Within the city, most townsfolk simply walked or used horses for transportation. 

Since Dark had no one to carry but himself, warping was much faster and safer. It was, however, an uncommon sight to see someone who wasn't from the academy using the spell, hence his hiding in the alley. The tingling sensation grew, spreading from the center of his chest all through his veins, from his toes to his fingertips to the crown of his head. It was essential not to leave anything out, or you could end up with missing body parts. 

Dark took a deep breath again, steadying himself and drawing in more energy. The world was positively infused with magical energy; it lived in everything, from the plants to the water to earth itself. It even hung in the air, a fine, invisible mist. This made it easy for anyone with magical blood in their veins to access the power all around them. The energy was absorbed into his body, reacting to the magical energy in his blood, bending to the purpose he needed it for. 

He blinked. The streets of Clocktown disappeared. He was now standing in the paddock of the Snowhead cottage, next to the wooden fence. The magic flowed out of him once again, back into the earth. It took with it a small amount of his own energy; the price it cost to be a magic user. He exhaled, feeling the last of the shivers caused by magic use fade. One of the most important lessons Fierce had taught was the importance of the cycle when using magic. You took some, you gave some back. The magic inside his blood wasn't inexhaustible. It was, however, capable of being replenished. 

"Dark!" Sienna's voice snapped him out of the post-magic stupor. 

She rushed towards him excitedly, throwing her arms around his neck. He nearly slipped in the half-melted snow under his feet. Spring was slowly coming back to the mountains, chasing the habitual cold away. Dark felt unseasonal heat engulf him as Sienna's soft body crashed into his. 

"Ah…is everything all right?" he asked, concern seeping into his voice. 

She looked up at him, her beautiful eyes huge with excitement. "Of course! I'm just glad that you're home! I was so afraid you'd be late." 

Dark couldn't help a smile as he stared down into her lovely face. "I missed you too. I wouldn't be late for dinner," he assured her. 

Sienna laughed, rolled her eyes. "Yes, you would. What shocks me is that you'd be late for dinner on this particular night!" 

Dark stared at her blankly, trying to remember what he had missed. Was it a special occasion? Had Sienna planned something special for tonight that he'd forgotten? 

She laughed again. "How can you forget your own birthday, Dark!?" 

Dark started. "R-right…" Today was his eighteenth birthday. She burst into a fit of giggles, hugging him tightly to her. Dark took a breath to calm himself, which only succeeded in allowing her soft, floral scent to fill his head. 

"Honestly, you're so strange sometimes." She smiled at him fondly, then finally released him—he said a silent prayer for that small mercy—and led him back inside. 

**~oOo~**

_Faxxon street, East Clocktown _

The man stepped out of the stuffy carriage, adjusting his fine vest over his portly frame. He was satisfied with the day's business transactions. Even more so with the information he had uncovered about his last customer, the strange youth known as Dark. The man, Shelton, made his way down a side street, whistling to himself as he puffed out his chest importantly. He had one more errand to do tonight. 

He approached a modest establishment on the next corner, digging in his trouser pocket for some rupees. He handed them to the doorman, who pocketed them and opened the door for Shelton. Shelton smiled, patting his round stomach as the hulk of a doorman shut the door behind them and led the way into the dark inn. It wasn't a filthy place, but it wasn't up to Shelton's high standards, either. He put a handkerchief to his nose to protect his delicate sinuses from the offensive stench. Shelton grimaced; he would have to have his boots shined after this. 

"Here," the doorman suddenly spoke in a voice far too soft and melodic for his imposing frame. 

Shelton nodded his thanks, stepping through the doorway and into a small office. A figure stood patiently next to the bookcase, studying the tomes on its shelves with curiosity. Shelton entered and seated himself as comfortable as possible in an armchair. The tall, cloaked figure turned. 

"You're late." A woman's voice came from beneath the cowl. 

"So sorry," Shelton apologized half-heartedly. 

He reached for a bottle that sat lonely and forlorn on the desk in front of him. His hand never made contact; suddenly, a wickedly curved dagger was between his pudgy fingers and the bottle, quivering slightly. The woman's hand emerged from the cloak to retrieve the weapon, yanking it out of the wood. Shelton slowly pulled back his hand, giving the woman his full attention. She had moved so quickly, like a viper. Shelton struggled not to gulp. 

The woman lowered her hood. A cascade of red hair tumbled down her back. Shelton eyed her warily, deciding it would be best to conclude his business with this woman as quickly as possible. 

"The one you've been searching for," Shelton began. "I know where to find him." 

The woman didn't move. She gazed back at him with onyx eyes. 

Shelton said hurriedly, "I sold him a house today, here…" Shelton reached into his vest pocket, pulling out his copy of the title deed with Dark's signature. He handed it to the Gerudo woman, who took it, reading it over quickly. 

What would have been a smile crossed her lips, but it seemed out of place on her serious features. She folded the title deed, slipping the hood of her cloak over her head once again. Her business was done. 

Shelton stood out of good manners, but the woman had swiftly vanished, leaving the door open behind her. Shelton suppressed a shiver, still feeling her cold eyes upon him. Then he muttered something about her bad manners before shuffling out. He nodded absently at the giant of a doorman on his way out. He climbed into his carriage, sighing at the comfort. He instructed the driver to take him home. Horse and carriage disappeared down the street as the cloaked woman looked on. 

She waited patiently as the doorman emerged to douse the lamp hanging outside the shoddy inn. His job complete, the street was plunged into darkness. Satisfied, the woman pulled out the title deed she had acquired from Shelton. There was no time to bring it to her superiors; it would take her several days to return to Hyrule. Not to mention the slight chance she would be attacked and the deed stolen. She almost laughed at the thought of common bandits attempting to rob a Gerudo warrior. 

Instead, she held the contract, rolled up, in her hand. Her entire hand began to glow with dark purple light, soon growing into magical flames. They surrounded the title deed and a small note she had attached, not burning it, but disintegrating it. The paper fizzled out with the flames, gone. Already, another Gerudo messenger in Hyrule would be able to perform the same spell, retrieving the title deed and its contents. 

**~oOo~ **

Hundreds of miles away in Hyrule Castle, Captain Aalrian of the King's guard felt a twitch. She perked up, happy to have a distraction from her patrol. The twitch was insistent, located at the base of her skull, letting her know another Gerudo was attempting to communicate with her via their particular brand of magic. It was often called black magic, though it wasn't to be confused with evil magic. Dark magic was extremely powerful and destructive. Only a select few had the ability to wield it. 

Aalrian reached out a hand as dark purple flames burst into life before her. A scroll hung in the flames, suspended in mid-air. She snatched it out, the fire cradling her hand lovingly, recognizing the black magic in her Gerudo blood. It was from the Clocktown messenger. And it was urgent. Aalrian read the contents of the note, then the signature scrawled on the title deed. 

_Finally,_ she thought, _some good news to bring Lord Ganondorf._

She stowed both items safely in a pouch on her costume. Gerudos didn't wear armor. Aalrian had traded her traditional red garb—the outfit of a captain— for an outfit that allowed her as much movement as possible. She wore a tight-fitting shirt with leather reinforcement, as well as trousers, tapered at the knees, also with reinforced leather pads sewn in. She had on metal bracers to protect her forearms and calves. She had donned leather gloves, and tied up her hair in a high ponytail, as most Gerudos did. 

She moved quickly and silently, the traditional Gerudo slippers making no sound on the stone beneath her feet. Any woman she passed was a Gerudo guard. There were no Hylian soldiers, forced to work for Ganondorf, stationed in this part of the castle. They nodded respectfully as she passed, keeping patrol in an organized and timely fashion. 

She finally reached the door of the castle library, which the Gerudo King had made his office. It was evening, but he would still be here for hours yet. She knocked sharply, and his voice came from within, permitting her to enter. Aalrian did so, quickly kneeling before her king. 

"My lord," she greeted him. 

He stood by the window, looking out. He did so often. "Rise, Aalrian." 

Aalrian obeyed. "My lord, I have received a message from my spy in Clocktown." 

Ganondorf turned, interested. "Termina?" 

The land east of Hyrule had so far evaded his influence. While closely related to Hylians, the Terminans lacked their magical power, and had thus far been of little use to him. Many Hylians had fled into Termina as the skies above Hyrule had grown darker. 

"Yes, my lord. You instructed us to find—" 

He cut her off. "I instructed you to find Princess Zelda, and you have failed me for these seven years." He glowered down at her. She lowered her head. 

"We are still searching, my lord. You must remember, however, that the Princess is highly skilled in magic…" 

He merely grunted. "She will turn up eventually. Now that the forest kid has returned, she will." 

Aalrian looked up in curiosity. "The forest boy?" she asked, cocking a brow. 

He nodded. When he had taken possession of the Triforce, it had reacted to the evil intentions in his heart, shattering into three pieces. Only the Triforce of Power had remained with Ganondorf, the piece that he prized above the other two. He had told none of the Gerudo warriors this. Better to let them think he contained all the power of the gods. He was certain Princess Zelda held one of the other two pieces. As for the kid, it was just a hunch, but he was nearly sure that he held the last piece. Why else would he have been sealed in the Sacred Realm? The realm had closed on Ganondorf, refusing him entry. He had to acquire the remaining pieces in order to attain true power…the power sealed within the Sacred Realm. 

Ganondorf told her, "There is no need to capture him, he will come to me eventually." 

Aalrian cleared her throat. "Of course. This message is about the third person you asked me to find, my lord." 

Ganondorf's smile widened, realizing who she meant. "You must be wondering why I asked you to find this one, Captain." 

She shifted nervously, not sure whether to respond. "Yes, my lord." 

"That forest kid, he seemed familiar. He's not a Kokiri, that is for certain. He's a Hylian." 

Her brow rose again. 

The King nodded. "His face seemed familiar to me. I finally realized why after consulting Koume and Kotake. They helped me to uncover long-forgotten memories." 

"The witches?" Aalrian asked, surprised. Everyone knew of them. They practiced dark magic. 

"At the end of the Unification War, I led an attack against the village of Tellura. We burned it to the ground." He gazed out the window, the memories already returning to the surface of his mind. She remained silent. "I was seeking revenge. A lowly solider had wounded me in a battle. This man had a family, you see." 

Aalrian started to piece it together. "You think the forest kid is this soldier's son?" 

"Yes. The kid was only an infant then, but I saw him. I remember his mother. She escaped with the kid, into the forest. His resemblance to her is not a coincidence." 

"Surely not," she agreed. For him to sound so certain, he must have had his guess confirmed by the dark witches. "What does this have to do with the other Hylian living in Clocktown?" she asked, indicating the signature on the title deed. 

Ganondorf grinned. "I believe the forest kid will be the perfect bait to lure out Zelda. But this soldier's wife had another son. I believe he also escaped that night." 

Aalrian's eyes widened. "You think…" 

Ganondorf nodded. "Yes. Koume and Kotake assured me of the relation. I intend to exploit it." 

"What are your orders, my lord?" she asked, seeing the glint of victory in the King's eyes. 

"Bring him to me." 

Without comment, Aalrian rose from the floor, leaving swiftly to carry out her lord's orders. Ganondorf glared at his reflection in the window. He looked tired, stressed. He looked weak. With a low growl, he spun on his heel, facing the room. He was not at all surprised to see two short, hooded figures there. One of them cackled, amused. Her hood slid back, revealing a long, hawkish nose. 

"You really trust Aalrian with this secret?" she questioned him, her voice high and thin, showing her great age. 

Ganondorf seated himself behind his desk, glaring at the two women. "For now. She is still useful." 

The other witch snickered, brushing off her hood. "Now that's debatable, is it not, Koume?" 

Koume cackled again. "Indeed. Why bother telling her about Tellura at all? After so many years, you still hold a grudge against a dead man." She laughed anew, mocking him. 

Ganondorf stood, his anger stirring. "He may be dead, but his sons live. Sons, who, the two of you revealed to me, are my greatest enemies." 

Her too-wide eyes fixing on him, Kotake murmured, her tone serious, "And they will be. The soldier's sons are a greater threat to you than any other. They will be your downfall if you do not change your path." 

Striking the desk with his fist, Ganondorf spat, "Then I will change it." The words rung in the air as if he'd shouted. "I have found one, at last. When I have him, the forest kid will come to me, and Zelda will follow." He straightened and turned again towards the window, studying the dark circles beneath his eyes. "They will all follow, and I will be rid of them." 

Koume cackled lightly. "A flawless plan…my lord." 

"Flawless, yes," Kotake added, her lopsided smile mocking. 

Nettled, he spun his back to the pair, dismissing them coldly. Their departure was announced by the fading sound of their high-pitched, grating laughter. He rubbed his temples, glad to be rid of the nuisance for the moment. The mark of the Triforce on his hand glowed weakly. 

Anxiety was an unfamiliar emotion to him, and a useless one at that. Yet he was unable to brush it aside. It dredged up memories of his time spent in the desert, when he'd discovered the legends of the relic of the gods. That knowledge had brought the answer to his prayers. He had known then that he would achieve his goal and hold the golden relic in his hands. 

But with that knowledge came the prophecy that all he would achieve could be undone by the sons of one lowly Hylian soldier.


	23. The Cruel Flow of Time

The lands of southeast Hyrule had been abandoned. Farmland lay desolate and barren, besieged by a drought. Villages and townships that hadn't been overrun with monsters had been ransacked and become the homes of ghosts. The vast forest that took up the majority of the land had become even more dark and uninviting. 

Despite the cautionary tales about the Lost Woods, where children became monsters and where wicked people did not return from, people had once inhabited the area. 

The Faron Woods, as they were called, had been a source of food and shelter for the people of the south. In the past seven years, however, it too had become a place of evil. 

The network of life the forest had once upheld had disappeared, leaving wilting, skeletal trees and struggling plants. Sunlight that had once filtered through the thick green canopy now beat down mercilessly upon the plant life, killing any small green sprouts that burst from the dirt. 

This part of the woodlands Link had already passed through. The changes, like previous ones he'd seen in Hyrule, had shocked him. His disgust for the false king had grown after seeing what he had done to the forest, Link's childhood home. 

He had nearly reached his goal: the Lost Woods. It was this forest that the villagers had whispered about. Ancient magic had grown there for centuries, and it barred passage to anyone with evil intent. Link passed through the magical veil without hesitation. The invisible border between the Lost Woods and Faron enveloped him, welcoming him back. 

To his dismay, the Lost Woods hadn't fared any better than Faron had. Navi hovered next to his ear, her small blue eyes welling with tears at the sight of her beloved forest in such a state. 

"It's horrible…" she whispered, sitting down on Link's shoulder. 

"I know," he replied, determinedly moving forward. They had almost reached Kokiri village. 

Several minutes passed in silence. Link felt anger stirring in his gut, boiling beneath his skin. His hatred of Ganondorf grew as he pushed aside a tree branch and laid eyes on the home of the Kokiri. The village looked much the same as he remembered it. The wooden huts remained untouched, the doors closed. There was only one thing missing, and Link noticed it immediately. 

Everything was silent. It was quieter than a tomb. The voices of the Kokiri children were absent. The sound of birds singing was nowhere to be found. He felt a chill run down his spine. 

Link and Navi did a quick tour of the village, calling out the names of the children. Link could hear them, they were still there. But they were hiding. Link called to them again and again, explaining who he was. No one answered him. Confused and hurt by their actions, Link walked back into the Lost Woods. He took the Kokiris' passage, heading for Saria's Sacred Grove. 

When he was young, Saria had showed him her secret hiding place in the Lost Woods. The grove she visited whenever she needed time away. It was the best place to start his search. 

From memory, Link navigated the twisting passageways of the aptly named forest. Hollowed-out remains of gigantic trees served to direct him as he delved deeper into the ancient woods. 

They'd just passed a shallow pond when a dart whizzed by, inches from Link's nose. He halted, instinctively seizing the Master Sword from its sheath. He turned on his attacker, hesitating when he saw who it was. 

A small child stood on top of a fallen tree, several feet away. The boy wore a dirty tunic, dyed with browns, greens and red so he could camouflage himself. A patchy, wide-brimmed hat sat on his head, concealing his face. 

"A skullkid?" Link asked, surprised. "Why are you attacking me?" 

The boy raised his head. Instead of a boy's face, he had a wooden one. Link knew it wasn't a mask, but an enchantment. The smile carved onto the skullkid's face was lopsided, and two round, glowing orange eyes sat above it. 

"You're an outsider," the skullkid responded, raising the hollow reed he used as a blowdart. 

"What?" Link asked, surprised. He took a quick step back. "But I'm a Kokiri! I grew up here." 

The skullkid laughed. It was a child's laugh, but it was disturbing, mocking. "The Kokiri never grow up," he said, shooting another dart in Link's direction. Link raised his shield to block it. When he lowered it, the skullkid had gone. 

Unnerved, Link hurried through the woods, following the path to the Sacred Grove. He knew he had to hurry. Saria could be in danger. The forest was not the same. 

Navi flew next to him, strangely quiet. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but he nearly collided with another young boy who was guarding the entrance to the Sacred Grove. 

"Hey, hold it right there!" the boy demanded, standing with his feet shoulder-width apart and raising a commanding hand towards Link. 

Link paused, studying the boy. He was a Kokiri, obviously. He was dressed all in gree, and had bright red hair. To Link, it had only been a few months since he had seen this boy. It escaped his notice that for him, it had been seven years since he had laid eyes on Link. 

"Mido!?" 

Mido huffed, obviously annoyed. "You have no business here!" he said, trying to sound tough. "Go away! We have enough problems. Can't you see the forest is all messed up right now?" 

"What's wrong with the forest?" Link asked quickly. "Is this Ganondorf's doing?" 

Mido stamped a foot on the ground. "No! It's all his fault! He left and broke the laws of the forest!" 

The breath caught in Link's throat. "Mido…don't you recognize me?" he asked, eyes widening. 

Mido looked up at him. "You're a Hylian! Of course, I don't know you! I told you to go away!" 

The boy kicked Link in the shins. Link barely felt it, and Mido hopped up and down on one foot, wincing at the stubbed toe. 

Navi flew quickly to Link's ear. "Link…he doesn't recognize you in your grown-up body," she whispered urgently. "But we need to get past him and help Saria!" 

"But I'm a Kokiri!" Link insisted to Mido, trying to get past him. "I'm a friend of Saria's." 

Mido huffed again. "The Kokiri never grow up. How can you be Saria's friend? I'm not an idiot!" Mido squinted at Link, surveying his appearance. "You wear Kokiri-ish clothing, and you have a fairy…but you're not one of us," Mido growled, crossing his arms. 

Link faltered. Mido had no way of knowing that he had just repeated words he'd said to Link years ago. Getting annoyed with Mido's antics, and deciding that Mido would never accept that what Link was saying was the truth, he reached for the ocarina. He raised the instrument to his lips, playing a familiar song. 

The music cut through the silence of the forest, echoing throughout the barren trees. The uplifting tune was at odds with the environment. He wasn't sure if he was imagining it or not, but he could've sworn that the low-hanging branches of the nearby trees lifted a little, like dozing dogs raising their heads to curiously watch a passerby. The trees were responding to the melody, as was Mido. Link watched as Mido's eyes grew as big as saucers. 

"You…you know Saria's Song," Mido said, watching Link with newfound suspicion and curiosity. Link lowered the ocarina, meeting Mido's gaze. "Saria played that song all the time. She only taught it to her friends," Mido continued. The boy paused, studying Link again. After a moment, he said, "Okay…I'll let you pass." 

Mido stepped aside, and Link stowed the ocarina away. As Link walked by, Mido said quietly, "When I see you…I don't know why, but I remember…him…" 

Link stopped for a moment. His back was to Mido, his head down. He could feel Mido's eyes on him, watching. The Kokiri boy didn't say anything else. After another second, Link continued walking. He didn't look back. 

**********

Saria's Sacred Grove had once been beautiful. The ruins of an ancient temple watched over a green clearing, enclosed by trees as old as Hyrule itself. A patch of sky could be seen through a hole in the tree cover, allowing one a beautiful view. Not even the destroyed glory of the temple had been able to take away from the scene. But now the trees were cold and lifeless, and the grassy clearing was little more than a patch of dirt. 

The temple itself had not changed. A broken white staircase, stained grey with age, led up to a balcony supported by the remains of a long-dead tree. The entrance to the temple glared down at Link, dark and ominous. One of the tree's branches arched over the entrance, like a clawed hand threatening to snatch anyone foolish enough to enter. Black vines trailed from the twig-fingers. They had been green and beautiful before, the tree alive and thriving. 

He felt his nails digging into his palm. Ganondorf's influence had stretched so far, done so much damage. Would this place ever be what it once was? 

A twig snapped behind him, alerting him to another's presence. He spun, surprised to find Sheik standing there. The youth stepped forward and stood next to Link. He observed the temple for a moment. 

"It is a shame," Sheik said, sadness lacing his tone. 

Link watched him carefully from the corner of his eye. "Have you been following me?" 

"Waiting," Sheik replied. 

"Who are you?" 

"The flow of time is always cruel," Sheik said softly, dodging his question. "Its speed seems different for each person, but no one can change it." His tone was laced with sympathy rather than impassiveness. Link stared back at him silently, trying to read his intentions in the little he could see of the youth's face. 

"Why are you here?" he asked again, unnerved by the youth's words and how close they were to home. 

Sheik didn't answer the question. He continued to muse to himself as if Link hadn't spoken, staring up at the desolate canopy above them. "A thing that doesn't change with time is a memory of younger days." His gaze lowered back to Link's. "Do you remember?" 

He was puzzled by the question. "Of course I do…" he murmured. 

As if on cue, memories came flooding back to him. He remembered his childhood in Kokiri forest, spending his days in the Lost Woods, carefree, playing games with the Stalchildren and the young Deku Scrubs, exploring with the other Kokiri children. He thought about Saria, and her playing on her ocarina as they gathered at the base of the Great Deku Tree, listening to his wisdom and endless reserve of stories. 

The memory in his head changed to one of Mido's incessant bullying, singling him out as the kid that didn't fit in. Link recalled Saria's many reassurances, and yet her parting words had been that he had always been different from her and her friends. 

A cold hand seized his heart as he remembered the spirit of the Great Deku Tree fading, and Mido placing the blame on him…Saria's expression as he left the forest for good. 

His memories sped forward to more recent ones. The Kokiris' doors shut to him, their ears closed to his calls to them, Mido's resentment and the blame he laid at Link's feet. 

Saria, missing. 

Sheik was right. The passing of time was a cruel thing. 

Link looked up, coming back to reality. Sheik was gone. Somehow, he wasn't surprised. He instead looked up towards the ancient ruins of a temple, forgotten in the deepest part of the forest. The crumbled stone steps beckoned him to the black mouth of the entrance. Who knew what awaited him inside. 

He waited another moment before reaching for the handle of the hook shot. The forest was no longer his home. The realization hurt in a way that he couldn't describe. The forest had welcomed him back, but it had not invited him to stay. It had protected him; he would protect it in return. And then he would leave again. 

The hook shot found its mark, pulling Link from the clearing onto the platform at the top of the ruined steps. Something scratched into the outside stone wall caught his notice. He brushed aside some dirt, trying to read the faded words, but the name of the temple was undecipherable now. 

He wondered what this place had once been, in centuries past. This place was known of by few; a secret deep in the forests of Hyrule. Forgotten. 

As a child, he had dreamed of the world beyond the forest, longing to see what else was out there. And now, the forest had gone on without him. He thought about Sheik's words. Time truly had been unkind. It had stolen his childhood, it had caused his friends to forget him, and it had destroyed the new, beautiful world he had discovered beyond the boundaries of the forest. 

He would not allow it to rob him of anything else. He wouldn't allow Ganondorf to do to Hyrule what time had done to this temple. He wouldn't allow Hyrule to become a distant memory. He stepped into the engulfing blackness. 

**~oOo~ **

_Snowhead Mountains_

Dark stared into the flames silently. At least, he appeared to look into the fire. Between the flickers of red and orange in front of his eyes he caught Sienna's movements on the other side of the room as she cleaned up after dinner. He toyed idly with a small vial around his neck. 

A birthday present from Sienna, filled with several small bits of medicinal herbs. She was fascinated by healing and medicinal plants and hoped to become a healer someday. 

Sienna looked over her shoulder and caught his gaze. She smiled. Dark smiled back, a bit unnerved at being caught staring at her again. He raised the vial to his face, pretending to closely study the engravings as she resumed her work. It was maybe the size of his little finger, made of a sturdy, light-coloured wood. She had engraved small symbols on it. To protect him, she had explained. Dark smiled at the token, twirling it between his fingers. 

"I trust everything went well today?" Fierce murmured at his side. 

Dark started. He had forgotten he was there. As imposing as his guardian was, he had mastered the art of blending into the background and remaining unseen. 

"Yes," Dark replied. "Everything is finished. I expect to be gone within a week." 

"Have you asked Sienna yet?" 

Dark glanced at her. "No." 

"I see…" 

He met Fierce's eyes. The tall man didn't often express emotion. Not outwardly, anyway. But to Dark's surprise, he detected a bit of sadness in his eyes. The icy blue spheres were usually quite blank, as if he was catatonic. Yet, they were so deep and unfathomable at the same time. They held a quiet determination in them, a promise of a force as unyielding as the wind itself. It's what made them so disturbing; that they were both empty and full all at once, of things unexplainable. 

Fierce regarded Dark silently. His expression had changed from its usual passive one. His jaw had tightened; his mouth had become a thin line, turning down at the corners. Slowly, Fierce extended a hand towards Dark. 

Surprised and curious, Dark took the offered hand, and was shocked when Fierce pulled him close, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. As long as Dark could remember, Fierce had always been somewhat distant. He had been a mentor, a teacher, a guardian. 

He had been a sort of father figure to Dark and Sienna, but he had never behaved the way Dark had come to expect fathers to towards their children. Even so, Dark loved him, and sensed that somehow, Fierce loved him like a brother. 

"I will miss you." 

Dark's eyes widened even more. "Getting touchy feely on me all of a sudden?" he teased, uncomfortable with the prolonged contact and Fierce's newfound affection. 

Fierce released him, but kept his hands on Dark's shoulders. 

He spoke quietly, intending the words for only Dark to hear. "I do not possess the traits that come naturally to you and other mortals, Dark," Fierce explained, his expression still somewhat sad. "I do not remember well what affection is. However—" 

Dark was surprised to see him hesitate. He wondered what could possibly have gotten into him. Fierce was struggling to explain himself, so Dark cut in. "Fierce," he said slowly. "It's okay. You're not like me, you're an immortal. You don't have to tell me." 

Sighing, Dark reached out for Fierce again, pulling him into a hug this time. He wasn't the best at expressing emotions either, but he did his best to silently convey the brotherly affection he felt for the man and how much he appreciated everything Fierce had done for him in the past seven years. He was surprised to find himself speaking his thoughts aloud. 

"Thank you, my brother." 

After a moment, Fierce pulled away again. Dark wasn't sure what the emotion that crossed his features was. It was too brief. His face became a serious mask again. 

"Dark, I must speak with you. Alone." 

Fierce stood and moved towards the door. Puzzled but curious, Dark followed. He glanced back at Sienna as he left. She was singing softly to herself as she tidied. He smiled at her, pulling on his boots and light winter coat. He hurried after Fierce as he walked through the snowy yard and into the forest. 

Dark realized then what Fierce wanted to talk about. He had promised him years ago that he would tell him the circumstances of his parents' death. Dark quickened his pace. He needed to know what had happened to them. More importantly, he needed to know the name of the man responsible. 

For years, the man's face had haunted Dark's memory. As many times as Fierce had urged him to forget his plans for revenge, the thirst for vengeance had grown inside him. He needed to right the wrong that had been done. 

The patches of melting snow crunched under their boots as they walked. His breath fogged in front of his face as he moved quickly to keep up. Fierce's tall frame moved through the dark forest, silver hair sparkling in the filtered moonlight threading through the trees above. 

Dark jumped over a particularly large root, snow crunching loudly beneath his feet. Fierce halted. Dark slipped on a patch of slush, nearly colliding with him. 

"Here is fine," Fierce said by way of explanation, turning to sit on a fallen log. Dark shrugged, sitting opposite him on a large, mossy boulder. 

Fierce moved with a formal grace that didn't quite mesh with his appearance. He wasn't wearing his customary outfit tonight. Normally, he wore faded tan trousers, brown traveling boots that covered him to the knees and simple work shirts. Tonight, he wore a thick navy cloak over his armor. It was a curious dark blue—constructed from what materials, Dark could only guess at—with gold detailing and a decorative waning moon image on the breastplate. Beneath it he wore a long-sleeved undershirt, made of another unidentified, tough material. His trousers, black like the undershirt, matched. His boots were the same dark blue, plated and heavy. 

Dark had anticipated this moment. Now that it was here, he wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

Sensing his hesitation, Fierce spoke first. "I presume you know what we will discuss at this meeting," he said simply, waiting expectantly for a reply. 

Dark shrugged again. "You're keeping your word. You're going to tell me what happened to my parents." 

"Correct." Fierce nodded. "And, as I promised, the time has come for you to know the truth." 

Dark remained motionless, waiting for him to continue. 

Fierce inclined his head towards him. "You may ask your questions." 

"Who are you, really?" Dark fired off. "I mean, as a kid I just thought you were some kind of hallucination." 

Fierce actually smiled. "As a child, I recall you thinking I was real, not imaginary." 

Dark grunted. "All right, fine. Who are you?" 

Fierce stared back, his fathomless blue eyes expressionless. "The Fierce Deity. As the name would imply, I am a warrior god." 

"I know all that already. You're more than that," Dark accused. 

He arched an eyebrow, his smile amused. "How so? I have been given divine power. I use it to protect the people of this world, to keep the balance of things, as any god might." 

Dark frowned. "I know what gods do. But why are you here, instead of…wherever it is that gods live." 

Fierce sighed. "Dark, you could spend the night asking me questions about godhood, to which there are many answers and an accompanying long and somewhat unsatisfying story of mine to tell you. Or, you could ask me the questions you truly want answered." 

Fierce fixed him with his gaze. It had always made Dark a little uncomfortable to meet his eyes. They were so…different. Not in a threatening way. Like everything about Fierce, his eyes were unanswered questions. Something that Dark could not comprehend, and wasn't sure he wanted to. 

He was undecided on whether he wanted to learn more about the world of the gods or not. He directed his attention to the other line of questions inside his head. For now. He made a mental note of the things Fierce had said about godhood, filing them away for later. 

"Okay," Dark gave in, asking another question. "You said you'd tell me what happened the night you disappeared, when I ended up at the orphanage." 

Fierce tapped a finger against his knee. An unusual thing, as he habitually remained quite motionless. Unless he was training Dark, of course. Then he moved at the speed of light. 

"How much do you remember?" 

Dark rubbed his forehead with a hand. "Not much. Flashes, mostly. Dad…" Dark paused. Fierce nodded for him to continue; he knew what Dark was referring to. "I lost track of my mother in the confusion. The house was burning. I remember running through the field, and you talking to me…that's really all." 

He looked up at Fierce, who shifted his weight on the log. Dark was shocked. Fierce's expression had turned uncomfortable and wary. Was he nervous? 

"You're aware, Dark, that magic flows in the blood." Fierce stated. Dark nodded. 

"Certain ancient bloodlines in Hyrule have remained strong even today. The Royal Family, for example. Many other families as well, particularly nobility. As I have said before, the magic that flows within you is particularly strong, thanks to your mother's line." 

Dark's eyebrows rose in surprise, making the connection. "My mother was a noble?" 

"Yes; the heir to quite a prestigious household, in fact. The magic in your father's blood was above average as well. His lower status, though, threatened the ancient bloodline, and your mother's family rejected their union. They decided to elope and live in the village where your father was born." 

Dark remained silent. He hadn't heard many of the details of his parents' lives, so listened intently without interrupting with more questions. Everything Fierce revealed to him had a purpose. 

Fierce drew in a breath. His chest slowly rising as his lungs expanded, then released it slowly. "Occasionally, a spirit enters this world who is different than most. Gifted with something you might call the blessing of the gods. I sensed that you were one such spirit. I revealed myself to you, knowing that the events of that night, when your parents passed, would determine the fate of something much larger." 

Dark broke his rule, interrupting Fierce. "You protected me that night. Why couldn't you protect my parents?" 

He paused, studying Dark's face. "Your parents were strong of spirit, Dark. Their deaths were not in vain, and they were not taken lightly. I could not interfere then, and I cannot now. Even I cannot alter the course of time. I can only lend my influence to the world." 

Dark mulled it over in his head. "So, basically you came here to influence things. Why?" 

"A mortal form allowed me to more directly influence the course of events. I had to ensure your survival, for one." 

"Because I'm…special, somehow." 

"Yes." 

"Why?" Dark asked. 

"It is against the 'rules of divinity', as you say, for me to reveal your fate, or the fate of the world to you," Fierce replied, a small smile touching his lips. "Prior knowledge of the future can have devastating effects." 

Dark shot him a dirty look before continuing, "But you can tell me about my past?" 

Fierce tilted his head forward. "Yes. It is time you knew the truth of events that night. You know my role in all this, as much as I can tell you." Fierce paused, expression serious. 

"Once you know the truth of your past, Dark, you must make a choice about your future. From here on, I can no longer influence your life as directly as I have. I have kept you safe and out of the way of the dark forces that have scoured this world for years. But from now on, I cannot continue to do so." 

Dark felt a shiver. It was true Termina had thus far managed to avoid the blight that was Hyrule's current tyrant, Ganondorf, but he had a feeling the peace wouldn't last. Even now, the tyrant's followers were appearing in Clocktown. Whatever Fierce had to tell him, he knew it was important. He knew it would decide what he did from this point on. He couldn't keep living here in this secluded mountain cottage. He'd figured out that much already today. 

Still, there were so many unanswered questions about Fierce that Dark wanted to know. He wondered if his mentor would still be around after this. He had, after all, drawn their lessons to what approximated a close. 

Dark felt the weight of the changes sinking in, bearing down on his shoulders like a heavy load. 

His choices today would affect his entire future, he knew. The world was getting worse. It was no longer time to wait around for something to happen. He had waited seven years. It was time to act. It was time to get answers. 

Dark drew a steadying breath and met Fierce's eyes. "Tell me."


	24. Always be your friend

_Inside the Forest Temple_

It was dark inside. Link took a moment to let his eyes adjust. The air was cool and crisp, and grass crunched beneath his feet. It seemed quiet, but his keen sense of hearing picked up on the sounds of scuffling, and then a low growl, coming from the far side of the room. 

Link bent his knees immediately, drawing his sword and shield. He sidestepped right, intending to hide in the darkness until his eyes adjusted to the lack of light. 

His shoulder collided with something solid and he gasped. Two yellow orbs appeared in the blackness, zeroing in on him. The object he had hit was a tree; a massive one. Link reached up and felt along the bark, looking frantically for a handhold as the growling because a howl. The yellow eyes came closer. Link's fingers closed over a slimy vine and he slipped. 

He raised his shield. Not a second too soon, as the wolf had pounced on him. 

Using his shield as a barrier, Link gathered his legs under him and pushed the beast off. The wolf howled again and started circling him, closely joined by a second wolf. Both were an ashy gray color, making it difficult for Link to see them. Their eyes glowed brightly though; Link stared at a point just below their eyes in order to see. 

"Link!" Navi was by now zipping around in the darkness, trying to assess the situation. 

"Navi!" Link shouted back. "Fly a little lower!" 

Navi did as he asked, flying dangerously close to the two wolves circling Link. Irritated, the beasts snapped at her as she hovered just out of reach. The glow from Navi's wings provided Link with enough light to see, and he raised his sword. 

In two quick swipes, he dispatched the first wolf and knocked back the second. The remaining wolf had been faster, and avoided a fatal blow. Its companion lay whimpering on the ground. Link stepped towards the second wolf, swinging again. 

The wolf dodged him and quickly followed with a swipe of claws. Link knocked it back with his shield as Navi hovered between them, shouting bits of advice at Link. 

"Don't be so stiff-kneed!" she chastised him. 

"I'm not trying to be!" Link said, frustration making him swing madly at the gray wolf. 

The wolf rose up on its hind legs, raising both paws with an intent to bring them down on Link's skull and knock him down. Link took the opening and slashed at the wolf's exposed belly. The animal shrieked in pain, collapsing into a heap next to its friend. 

The two wolves lay there, moaning pitifully for a moment, before their bodies suddenly exploded with orange, fiery bursts. Link took a surprised step back, raising his shield. Twin clouds of dark smoke were all that was left. 

"What just happened?" Link asked, kneeling down and tentatively passing a hand through the fog. 

Navi flitted down to examine the smoke. "Those were wolfos, not regular animals. They were Ganondorf's monsters, summoned from the Dark World. Once you defeat them, they return to where they came from." 

Link watched the smoke slowly dissipate before standing. "Strange." 

Link and Navi continued through a narrow passageway, overgrown with moss and vines that snaked along the stone walls like veins. They soon reached what looked to be the central room of the temple, judging by its size, made all the more imposing by its vaulted ceiling, and the number of rooms that branched off from it in all directions. 

Dead ahead of them was a wide, descending staircase. The steps and railing, beautifully carved with a design of leaves, were made of the same pale, elegant stone as the rest of the temple. Like everything else, the stairs were worn with age. 

Link stepped down a couple of steps, peering into the shadowy corners of the room. Unsurprisingly, the room was quiet, dark, and damp. Empty. 

Link walked until he met the altar-like construction in the center of the circular room. Another thing he had noticed was the cold; it wasn't an uncomfortable chill, but the room was distinctly lower in temperature than the previous one. It felt soothing, though, like the forest did after a rainfall. 

Even so, there was something off about the room. The altar, in particular. Link studied it. It was difficult, but his eyes had adjusted, and the darkness wasn't nearly as impenetrable as he would've thought. 

There was a wooden structure, rectangular, open on all sides excluding the top and bottom. It was tall enough for a man to stand in, with four carved pillars holding up the flat top. A carved wooden figurine stood atop the wooden box; it depicted a winged maiden, wearing a dress that appeared to be made of leaves, vines and moss. Her hair was long, flowing down her back and partially covering a quiver full of arrows. In her hand she held a bow. 

Curious, Navi floated up to study the figurine while Link explored the rest of the room. In total, there were six doors leading out of the main chamber. Excluding the entrance and a door that was situated on an enclosed stone balcony a floor above him, it left four possibilities. 

He tried to use the hook shot to bring him to the balcony door, but the spearhead merely bounce off the wall, refusing to burrow itself into the smooth marble. With no other anchors for the hook shot to latch onto, that left the two rooms situated under arched corridors in the northeast and northwest corners. 

One of them was blocked by a cave-in from the ceiling. The door directly north was unlocked, but simply led to a second, smaller, circular room. It too, was empty. The only other unlocked door was the one in the northeast corner. 

Upon opening the door, there was a series of loud screeching sounds, and a flurry of Keese sailed over his head. Link crouched, raising his shield over his head as the Keese passed into the other room. 

Peering under the metal edge of the shield, Link took in his surroundings. The room was a triangular-esque shape, and the floor was covered in soft grass. A Deku baba sprung out of the grass as he took a step forward, but Link easily dispatched it with a swipe of his sword. 

There was a quiet pool in the corner, several feet deep, with a smaller, grassy island at its centre. There was a stone structure built on the island, with a door atop that Link couldn't reach. He circled the room, trying to climb some of the vines growing on the walls or find an anchor for his hook shot. Aside from the pool, there was an empty well and more rooms that Link couldn't reach or that had been caved in. 

Eventually, Link decided to try the unlocked west door, hoping it would lead somewhere. Coming back into the large altar room, Link's peripheral vision caught movement to his left. He spun, one hand reaching for his sword. His tension faded when he realized it was just his shadow passing over the smooth stone of the wall. Link took a single step forward. 

He froze abruptly. His hand was back on his sword again, drawing it this time. 

Link turned to stare accusingly at the dark shape of his shadow, flickering in and out on the wall. He shouldn't have a shadow. This room, as far as he had seen, had no visible light sources aside from the faint glow of Navi's wings. She was far away, there was no possible way. 

Link inhaled sharply. "Navi…" he called out, his voice laced with apprehension. 

"Link," Navi replied urgently, the blue light surrounding her getting brighter. "I think there's a fairy spirit trapped inside this figurine…" 

"Navi," Link repeated, more insistent. 

"What is it?" she finally asked, turning her attention from the wooden maiden. 

Link didn't answer, using the angle and shape of his shadow to judge where the light was coming from. His gaze landed on the four stone columns surrounding the altar. They were also rectangular, but, if his guess was correct, there were four invisible sources of light atop each one; a torch of some kind, judging by the flickering nature of his shadow. 

When he said as much to Navi, the fairy flew over to the nearest pillar, using a bit of fairy magic to dispel the illusion. A magical flame appeared, floating by itself above the marble column. To Link's surprise, it was green, rather than the red-orange of natural fire. 

"What?" Link asked in confusion. 

Suddenly, the remaining three flames burst into visibility with a series of crackling sounds. The rest were purple, blue, and scarlet, too red to be a regular flame. 

Link drew his blade as Navi retreated back to the wooden figurine, circling to keep an eye on all four magical flames. Four wicked cackles followed on the footsteps of the crackling sound, and four Poe spirits appeared next to the columns, their bright orange eyes fixated on Link. 

Cackling again, the four Poes captured the flame that matched the color of their torn, ragged cloaks, stowing it inside their lanterns. They floated about the room, taking the light with them. 

Link's eyes were struggling to adjust to the sudden brightness, and he avoided looking directly at the Poes. He raised his shield, deflecting both the light and the balls of fire the Poes threw at him as he jogged around the perimeter of the room. 

"This way!" Navi called to him, hovering near the blue Poe. The creature shrieked and swatted at the fairy, quickly spinning in a circle and disappearing from sight. Only her blue lantern remained to indicate her position. 

"Navi, don't get so close to them!" Link shouted, dodging another flame projectile. "I can't hit them unless I can see them!" 

Navi quickly backed off, and the blue Poe showed herself, hurtling blue fire Link's way. All four Poes stayed well out of reach of his blade, taunting him as they flew around him, forcing him to maintain a defensive stance. 

"Damn it!" Link swore, frustrated as the purple Poe evaded another swipe from his blade. 

The Poes attacked him relentlessly, and Link ducked underneath the wide staircase just in time. He looked around for Navi, but she was hovering over the wooden figurine again. 

"Navi!" Link called, ducking as the red and blue Poes sent two fireballs his way. 

"Almost," she assured him, reaching for the tiny bow the maiden held in her hand. 

To Link's amazement, the figurine's wooden shell cracked and fell away, revealing pale flesh beneath. The tiny fairy, her skin now glowing with soft green light, stretched out her limbs and fluffed out a mane of long dark hair. Her wings stretched out freely, and she removed the quiver and bow, handing them to Navi. 

Fighting off more attacks from the Poes, Link watched as the freed fairy thanked Navi, winking out in a flash of pale green light. Quickly, Navi joined Link, holding the miniature bow and quiver in her pale blue hands. 

"I knew it!" she said in satisfaction. "I told you there was a fairy spirit trapped there." 

"Now isn't really the time," Link replied, exasperated. "I need something to hit these things with!" he said, gesturing to the giggling Poes. 

"Oh, right." Navi smiled sheepishly, murmuring a spell over the bow. The tiny weapon started to grow in size, rapidly expanding until it was too big for Navi to hold. Link seized it, and watched as it grew in his grip until it was a normal size. 

"Perfect!" he said, slinging the quiver, also now a normal size, across his back. He placed his shield on his back, sheathing the Master Sword as well. Link rolled from behind the staircase, the fire projectiles bouncing uselessly off his back. 

"Come and get me," he taunted the Poes, fitting an arrow into the bow and raising it high. 

The fairy's bow was sturdy, made of the tough, yet flexible wood of a Deku tree. It sported the same interwoven leaf design as the green fairy's dress, and bowed accommodatingly beneath Link's grip. 

He let the first arrow fly; it pierced the defenses of the red Poe, causing her to shriek with pain. Her body crumbled into ash, and she dropped the lantern to the floor. It shattered, releasing the red magical flame. Link did the same with the blue and green Poes, the freed magical flames returning to their respective columns. 

The final Poe, the purple one, cackled menacingly at him. She bared her tiny, pointed teeth, dodging every arrow he shot at her. Her image shifted, splitting into four phantom figures that became corporeal. Link gritted his teeth, trying to search out the real one among the copies. The first two arrows sailed through air, hitting fake Poes. The real Poe giggled with delight and threw more fireballs at him. 

"Damn it all," Link muttered. 

The purple Poe shifted into four once again, and this time Link watched carefully. He aimed his next arrow at the Poe on the far right, his fingers releasing the taut bowstring. The arrow hit its mark and didn't pass through. 

Link smiled in victory. "Found you," he murmured. 

The Poe was reduced to ash, and the purple flame joined its companions atop the marble pillars. As soon as all four flames had returned, the floor shifted beneath Link's feet. He threw his arms out for balance, noticing with shock that the rectangular box in the centre of the room was moving. It descended, slowly, until the flat top was flush with the floor, and then it continued downward, leaving a square opening where it had once rested. 

Navi flew over to inspect it. "There's another room down there!" she exclaimed. "Link, whatever is down there, it's what's causing so much trouble in the forest. Evil energy is thick down there." 

Link nodded. "Come on, we have to go find it and destroy it. Whatever it is probably has Saria." 

The blue fairy nodded in agreement, moving back as the wooden elevator shuddered upwards, resuming its original position. Cautiously, Link stepped into the centre of the wooden box, his heart leaping into his throat as it shook slightly, descending once again. He took a steady breath, reaching back for the reassuring hilt of the Master Sword. 

Who knew what awaited him below. 

**~oOo~ **

The forest clearing was hushed, the sounds of nocturnal animals still absent as winter breathed its last. The air had warmed significantly, announcing spring's coming, and Dark barely felt the chill as he shifted his weight on the rock, waiting expectantly for Fierce to speak. The moon was waning tonight, its pale glow reflecting off the other man's silvery hair. 

Eventually, Fierce opened his mouth to speak. "You know of Hyrule's Unification War, I presume?" 

Dark shrugged. "Bits and pieces. I never paid much attention in history classes." 

Fierce actually chuckled. Dark arched a brow at the rarity. "No, I suppose not. It began well before you were born, and ended mere days after your parents were slain." 

"What does it have to do with that night?" Dark asked. 

"Under the circumstances, I thought a little background information might help," Fierce explained, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his crossed knees. "Tensions had been high for quite some time, and war had broken out between the tribes of Hyrule. The Gerudos had amassed a significant force, as they had gained the loyalties of other desert tribes, either through force or promised rewards." 

Dark raised an eyebrow skyward again. "The Gerudo have always disliked the Hylians," he commented. "They've finally taken control of Hyrule, which I suppose was their goal all along." 

Fierce gave a half-shrug, continuing with his story. "The Gerudos possess the ability to wield black magic, the polar opposite in terms of energy that the Hylians use. This difference alone has caused many to fear them. It is also true that they consider Hyrule's lands rightfully theirs, since in centuries past they were driven out of Hyrule after a past ruler exiled them." 

"What happened?" 

"A group of individuals stumbled across dark magic. They believed they could use it to gain control of Hyrule's hidden power source. The dark magic consumed them, however, and the Gerudo tribe was exiled for the crimes committed by the Gerudo members of this group. This sentence, of course, triggered many occasions of strife between Hylians and Gerudo. Eventually, during Queen Aldera's reign, a peace treaty was signed and those Gerudo who renounced dark magic could return to Hyrule. This, however, caused another problem." 

"They were still using dark magic?" Dark guessed. 

Fierce shook his head. "You know that among the Gerudo tribe, only one male baby is born once every hundred years?" he asked. A nod from Dark confirmed it. "Before the exile, this was not so," Fierce revealed, much to Dark's surprise. "For thousands of years before Hyrule even existed, the Gerudo tribes coexisted with the Hylians and many other tribes. Eventually, children who were both Gerudo and Hylian were born. These children possessed the ability to wield both types of magic, making them extraordinarily gifted. It was a man born to Gerudo and Hylian parents, gifted with magic, who used dark magic to accomplish his own ends. It was because of him and his followers that the ancestors of the Gerudo were exiled." 

Dark's eyes widened. "What happened to the dark magic users?" 

Fierce inhaled slowly. "They were called the Interlopers. Their punishment was banishment. They were cursed to roam the plane known as the Dark World. The Gerudo were banished to the desert out of fear, and the curse of bearing a single male child every hundred years cast upon them, so that it would be more difficult for them to bear children gifted with both kinds of magic. Now, it is against Hylian law for men to consort with Gerudo women. The descendants of the gifted ones who had not been banished eventually grew apart from both races, and became known as the Sheikah, who have served Hyrule's Royal family since the kingdom's birth." 

"The Sheikah are a cross between Gerudo and Hylians?!" Dark blurted. 

Fierce gave him a small smile. "Yes and no. They are a perfect hybrid; a mixture of the two forms of magic. They were blessed with unique power, and even, in rare cases, visions of the future. Their power made them a great threat. But the Sheikah have existed for thousands of years Some believe they predate both the Gerudo and Hylians and that those nations came from the Sheikah. After the exile, they grew apart from their Gerudo ancestors and eventually allied instead with the Hylians. Many years later, the peace treaty was signed and all was well. However, after the death of Queen Aldera, the current Princess Zelda's grandmother, the Gerudo began to stir. They craved the unique power of the Sheikah, and they had just been blessed with a male child, the one destined to become their leader." 

"Ganondorf," Dark said. Fierce nodded. 

"Correct. As soon as Ganondorf took power, he set his sights on Hyrule once again. He had become obsessed with the secret power that lay hidden in Hyrule, just like the Interlopers before him. He broke the peace treaty, and invaded Hyrule. Hyrule was unprepared. Princess Zelda's father had just been crowned, and the strained alliances with the Zora and Goron tribes left Hyrule in a vulnerable state. Ganondorf's armies devastated the kingdom and wiped out much of the Sheikah tribe, and the hope that the new king would lead them to victory dwindled." 

Dark frowned. "But the late King didn't fail, he succeeded. The Gerudo were driven back and the peace treaty restored…until Ganondorf broke it again," he added, scoffing. 

"Indeed," Fierce confirmed. "The new Princess Zelda was born, and the King strengthened his ties with the other warring races of Hyrule, and brought an end to the civil war. This is where your father comes in. I told you that he was a soldier, and he fought in the Unification War. In one of the last battles, your father attacked Ganondorf himself. Many considered it brave, others foolish. But he managed to wound Ganondorf gravely, inciting the desert king to seek revenge." 

A shadow crossed over Dark's face. "So he came after my parents. He's the one who killed them." His mouth was set in a grim, determined line. 

Fierce gave him a sympathetic look. "Yes, it is why. He had other reasons, but his desire to defeat your father consumed him. As revenge often does," Fierce hinted, giving Dark a meaningful look. 

Dark scowled. "I get it, already. Revenge will consume me, blah, blah, blah." 

"You should take my warnings seriously," he said, lasering Dark with his glare. 

He glared at Fierce. "This man killed my parents. He's done much worse, too. It would be wrong of me to let him live." 

Fierce paused a moment. "Ganondorf is fated to meet his end, and soon, but I must warn you against confronting him. It is not your fate to be the one to defeat him." 

He scowled again. "What do you mean?" 

"There is another thing I have not told you," Fierce began, his eyes taking on a hint of sadness again. "You remember that you became separated from your mother." 

Dark, in a state of unease, shifted his weight again. "Yeah…so?" 

"Do you remember your infant brother?" Fierce asked, his eyes flashing. 

Dark's brow furrowed. "Vaguely…" 

Fierce nodded. "Yes, she escaped into the forest, and used the last of her strength to take your brother to a safer place. She died from her wounds soon after, however." 

Dark stood up, unable to keep from pacing. "I don't get it," he said, frustrated. "You give me a history lesson, just to tell me how my dad got caught up in it all, only to tell me everything I already knew, then add on the fact that the man currently seated on the throne of Hyrule is my parents' murderer, but I won't be the one to kill him. What's the point?" 

He emphasized the last word by striking the boulder he'd been sitting on with his fist. The stone groaned in protest, the crack echoing in the trees. Dark stared at his hand, amazed by the sudden surge of strength he had felt. 

Fierce was at his side in an instant. "You are different, Dark," he said quietly. "You possess unusual abilities, much like the Sheikah. But the path you tread will not lead you to the revenge you seek. The man destined to remove the darkness from Hyrule is someone else. You must understand that. Revenge is an empty ambition. Your focus must be elsewhere, or the cost will be great." 

Dark took a deep breath in, shocked to see sparks had been dancing along his knuckles. They dissolved along with his anger, however, and he turned to Fierce. "Who is destined to take out Ganondorf, then?" he asked. 

"That is the other thing I must tell you," Fierce said solemnly. "The man who will be Ganondorf's downfall is your brother." 

Dark might have laughed, if not for the utterly serious expression on Fierce's face. He thought for sure he had misheard him. He'd always thought his brother had died years ago. 

"What?" he managed to croak after several minutes of stunned silence. 

Fierce met Dark's eyes, his gaze intense. "Your brother is still alive." 

**~oOo~ **

It was the strangest room he'd ever set foot in. The most eerie, as well. Also circular, it was quite small, with the same vaulted ceiling and cool, stone walls. The design etched into the floor had long since faded, the image indiscernible. Evenly spaced throughout the room were paintings, all identical, featuring a dirt path snaking its way into the vanishing point, and bordered by dark, skeletal trees on either side. The horizon was an unnatural deep purple, giving the paintings the appearance of spooky eyes that watched him wherever he turned. 

"I don't feel it anymore…" Navi mused, looking around with a confused look on her face. "Maybe we're in the wrong place." 

"Maybe," Link agreed, eyeing the nearest painting warily. 

He stepped towards the entrance of the strange room, and metal spikes suddenly erupted from the floor, barring his way. Link halted, stunned to hear what sounded like a horse behind him, snorting and pawing the ground. Confused, he turned around to see a jet black stallion, mere inches away, real and very much not a figment of his imagination. What was even more startling was the rider. 

"Ganondorf!" Link shouted, drawing his sword as the rider laughed, reaching a hand up towards his face. 

Ganondorf covered his own face with a hand briefly before drawing it away. With it came his dark flesh, leaving only stark white bone. Link's jaw dropped in horror. The man who looked like Ganondorf was now a ghost rider with a skeleton face. 

His body was non-corporeal, the black armor encasing nothing but air. The stallion had become an unearthly beast, its flesh stretched tight across its bones, its face gaunt and terrifying. It snorted, rising into the air as its rider let out a wicked laugh, raising a staff above his head. 

The horse reared, and Link was forced onto his belly as the beast leaped through the air over his head, horse and phantom disappearing into the painting behind him. Link and Navi stared at the painting, watching as the image of the horse and rider moved along the path, fading to a speck of black. 

"It's a spell," Navi reasoned, tugging on Link's collar as he started to stand up. "Get down!" she shrieked as the phantom emerged from the painting opposite, charging right for them. 

Link ducked again, avoiding the blast of energy the phantom left in the centre of the room. The staff in his hands crackled with electricity. Link stood and sheathed his sword, realizing it wouldn't help him against this enemy. He instead pulled out the fairy's bow, knocking an arrow and switching his gaze from painting to painting, unsure where the phantom would appear next. A few tense moments passed before Navi perked up. 

"There!" she said, pointing to a painting across the room. 

Link's back met the wall, staying as far as possible from the center of the room where the phantom would pass. He could see the dark shape moving through the painting now, and then the burst of dark energy as the ghost forced its way back into the room. 

Link let the arrow fly. It hit the phantom in one of its glowing orange eyes, causing it to let out an unearthly howl and retreat into the painting. 

Ganondorf's phantom galloped through the room on his skeleton horse several more times, throwing bursts of dark energy at Link. He managed to avoid them, rolling and dodging out of the way while shooting as many arrows as possible when the ghost's body became temporarily solid. 

Eventually, the phantom abandoned its steed, the horse whinnying as it dissolved into dark ash. The phantom laughed again, the sound hollow and unnatural. 

He began to circle the room, floating feet above the ground and easily dodging any arrows Link sent his way. The ghost raised the staff, creating another sphere of dark energy, and sent it flying at Link. He didn't have time to evade it, or raise his shield in defense. His first reaction was to raise the bow, which did nothing to protect him. The energy hit him with shocking force, throwing him onto his back as he was electrocuted. 

"Link!" Navi screamed, trying to get past the waves of dark energy coiling around his body. 

Link's vision swam. He would've yelled or fought back, but his teeth had clamped together painfully, his limbs stiff as he jerked around helplessly on the floor. Finally, the white-hot pain stopped and he was left feeling numb instead. Link struggled to get to his feet, his brain struggling to relay commands to his body to move. 

The phantom laughed again, orange eyes mocking him as he sent another dark spell Link's way. On instinct, Link reached for his sword, drawing it just in time to deflect the orb of dark energy back at the ghost. Unprepared, the ghost was engulfed by its own spell, its body becoming solid and paralyzed. His legs feeling like jelly, Link stumbled forward and slashed at the phantom before it recovered. It howled, jerking up into the air and raising its staff to strike. 

Another sphere came sailing his way, and Link swung the blade clumsily. It missed the spell, and Link was left temporarily paralyzed again. When he could stand, Navi flew over to stand on his shoulder. 

"I told you that practice was necessary!" she hissed in his ear. 

Link barely heard her. The phantom was already preparing another energy sphere to toss at him. That ball of energy got closer and closer, and Link raised his sword in shaky hands, his fingers not listening to his mental commands. 

"Link, now!" Navi shouted. 

Link's fingers suddenly woke up, gripping the blade's hilt with determination. The Master Sword had begun to glow with white light, emanating a sense of strength that reverberated through his arms and into his chest, lending him the boost he needed. 

He sliced straight through the orb, sending tendrils of dark energy ricocheting through the room. The phantom's glowing eyes widened as ribbons of its own spell came bouncing towards it, slicing it to pieces before Link's eyes. The phantom screamed as the dark energy consumed it, its solid form crumbling into a heap of ash on the floor. Its glowing eyes remained, staring menacingly at Link, until they too were wiped out by the remainder of the spell. 

The surge of adrenaline and strength left Link and the Master Sword's blade had stopped glowing. His legs could no longer hold him, and he collapsed to his knees, breathing hard. His fingers uncurled from the blade, too weak to hold on. Navi hovered in front of his face. 

"Link?" she asked tentatively. 

"I'm…all right," he gasped. "I just need to rest." 

Navi was about to reply, but sharp blue light erupted from the centre of the room. It had no origin point; it simply burst from everywhere, filling the room and blinding the pair. When the light faded and Link could see, there was a circle of the same blue light next to him, glowing brightly and then dimming in a slow pattern. Standing, Link nudged closer to the circle. He had seen this radiant blue light before; recognized the way it moved slowly, almost sensuously, beckoning him forward. 

With Navi hanging onto his shoulder, Link stepped into the circle of light. The light intensified, the rays growing until they soared over his head. The light changed shape, forming the solid form of a crystal around him. 

Darkness started to fall again, and Link blinked. The forest temple had faded to nothingness, and Link found himself in the Chamber of Sages a second time. Navi buzzed excitedly, looking around in wonder as the crystal shield dissolved. 

Link stood in the middle of the platform once again, only this time he faced the bright green pedestal, instead of the golden yellow. And once again, he was not alone. 

A young girl stood there, maybe eleven or twelve years old. Her hair, the same color as the pedestal beneath her feet, was cut short and curled around her pointed ears. Her clothes were simple, comfortable, and different shades of green in color. She smiled as Link met her eyes. A deep, enchanting shade of blue. 

"Saria." 

Link was shocked at the sound of his own voice. It sounded cracked…broken. A terrifying thought crossed his mind even as Saria smiled at him more broadly. _Will she remember me?_

"Link," Saria replied, causing a sigh of relief to escape him. "Thank you. Because of you, I can awaken as the Sage of the forest." Saria paused, clasping her hands together and holding them against her chest. She lowered her eyes, speaking quieter than before. "I always knew you would come back." 

An emotion he couldn't name swept over him. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry. Sorry that he'd been gone so long. Sorry that his leaving had caused so much trouble for the forest. He opened and closed his mouth several times before he found his voice. 

"Saria, I—" 

Saria held out a hand, gently interrupting. "No…you don't have to explain," she said, her gaze returning to his. She smiled sadly. "It is destiny that you and I can't live in the same world. I must stay here. I will remain and help you…Hero of Time." 

Any words he could think to say died in his throat as Saria raised her arms skyward. There was a flash of green light, and Saria's emerald medallion appeared as the Light Medallion had. Link held the token in his palm, admiring the design. 

The ground suddenly felt lighter beneath his feet, and he panicked as he felt himself start to fall. He reached his free hand towards Saria, who was quickly fading from view. 

"Saria!" he called out to her, his eyes frozen to her face. 

Saria gave him another smile, wistful yet sad. She'd had the same expression on her face the day he'd left the forest. Her next words were softly spoken, but Link heard them even as the darkness enveloped him and Navi, bringing them back to the world of light. 

_Link…I will always be…your friend._


	25. The Wellspring

_Daulta Street, West Clocktown_

She let out a gleeful giggle as he raised the instrument to his lips once again, his fingers fumbling. The note he played was flat, causing her to laugh at him again. 

“Wait, I think I’ve got it,” he muttered, adjusting his fingers over the holes. Dark blew into the ocarina again experimentally, this time producing a sound that approached the realm of music. 

Sienna couldn’t stop laughing at his attempts to play the instrument. They were strolling through Clocktown’s busiest shopping district, and once he’d laid eyes on the beautiful, pristine white ocarina, he’d had to have it. The mouthpiece was inlaid with a small crimson gem, and the shopkeeper had claimed the exterior was carved from seashells. 

It certainly was beautiful. Sienna sighed wistfully, wishing she had money to pay for something like that. Dark worked at the archery shop in town, as well as a second job at a tavern, so he had money to spare. 

He’d moved into his new home in Clocktown a week ago, and she found herself missing him already. She was taking full advantage of the afternoon outing, spending as much time with him as she could. 

He stopped playing and looked over at her, his mouth quirking into a smirk. Sienna looked down at her shoes before he noticed her blush. She never could look into those eyes very long. They were such a striking shade of blue. 

“I think you could use a new dress,” he announced, pocketing the ocarina and reaching for her hand. 

“What?” she sputtered as he dragged her further up the street. “What do you mean?” 

She’d already bought some groceries to take back to the cottage in Snowhead, and even gifted herself with a new pair of shoes. She had assumed her shopping was over. Dark had already bought new furniture for his house and some clothes to fill up his new wardrobe. 

He pulled her along, his fingers gently curved around hers. They passed a street sign and Sienna noticed with surprise they had turned onto Sarlon Boulevard. It was a notorious shopping street for rich folk. 

“What are we doing here, Dark?” she asked urgently, distressed by her plain workers’ dress and dusty shoes. Even her shawl was patchy. 

“Shopping,” he answered, clearly amused. 

She scowled at him, wanting to die of embarrassment when a pair of women dressed in expensive dresses looked down their noses at her. Dark stopped outside a fancy dress shop, examining the items on display in the window. Sienna stood next to him, trying to ignore the glances from the richer townspeople. She noticed the rich women weren’t as averse to looking at Dark as they were at her. 

She sighed, glancing sideways at her handsome friend. Not that she could blame them. With his raven hair and striking blue eyes, not to mention his fine build and aristocratic features, women found Dark as appealing to look at as Sienna found the gorgeous gowns in the window. 

Before she knew it, Dark was steering her inside. The boutique was modestly sized, despite its prices. A sign near the door politely requested they remove their footwear before entering the shop. Dark ignored it completely, sliding his boots once on the opulent rug to remove any dust from the street. Sienna had to hold back a gasp as she discreetly slipped off her own shoes, hurrying after him. 

The lighting was dim, excluding small alcoves where display gowns stood proudly, surrounded by a halo of sensuous coloured lights. Thick velvet curtains had been tied aside to reveal mirrors placed at intervals along the walls. In the middle of the room were more dresses on display, these ones obviously the most expensive, as they were woven from the finest material and some even had precious jewels sewn into the fabric. 

Sienna was busy marveling at the opulence surrounding her when a thin man with a hawkish face approached her. 

“May I help you, madam?” he asked, his tone stuffy. He spoke the word “madam” as if it wasn’t a title befitting her. 

Sienna stumbled over her words. “Um, no. I, um…” 

Dark swooped to her side, giving the salesman a cheeky grin. “We’re just browsing,” he said, his eyes glinting with mischief. 

The salesman studied Dark from the top of his dark head to the toes of his boots. Upon seeing these, the man choked a little, before regaining his composure and carefully straightening his silk vest. 

“Of course…sir,” he said stiffly, giving Dark a hawk-eyed glare before gliding gracefully away. 

Sienna rounded on him, her voice a low hiss. “What are you doing!?” 

His elbow locked, he took her arm and adopted a stiff-backed posture similar to the salesman. “Why, browsing for a dress, my dear,” Dark told her, mimicking the vested man’s nasally voice. 

She stuffed a hand in her mouth to stop her giggles as Dark paraded her about the room, carrying himself with all the elegance of a haughty nobleman. He paused to examine several gowns, pretending to scrutinize them closely with an imaginary eyeglass. Apparently dissatisfied, he would throw up his hands dramatically and call out loudly that the gown simply wouldn’t do. The salesman watched their progress from the shadows, giving them the noble approximation of a dirty look. 

Sienna studied Dark’s profile as he bent over another dress—a simple emerald green with white lace accents. Dark never missed an opportunity to mock the noble class, those who had been born rich. It wasn’t so much their being rich that he minded, it was their attitude towards low-born people like them. 

Sienna bit her lip as she remembered. Having previously been ignorant of his parentage, they had assumed Dark was a commoner, like herself. But he had shared with her the revelations from Fierce about his mother and father. His father might have been a common solider, but Dark’s mother had been a noblewoman. Even if she had been disowned by her family before her death, the noble blood of one of Hyrule’s oldest families ran in Dark’s veins. 

It hurt a little to know that they were no longer equals, in terms of blood and class. Somehow, she had always entertained the notion that their shared circumstances had brought them together, and would keep them together. The story of his parents’ elopement had given her a sort of hope; a romantic story like that was uncommon, though. 

Sienna shook her head sadly as Dark turned towards her. “I have found the perfect dress!” he announced, discarding the faux noble voice. 

“Huh?” she asked, suddenly finding herself propelled towards one of the velvet curtains with her arms full of silk and lace. 

Dark stepped back from her, and the velvet curtain tumbled into place, blocking her from view. She turned to face the mirror, uncertainly studying her simple appearance. The dress in her hands was the simple, but beautiful, emerald green one. It would match her eyes perfectly. 

She shrugged out of her plain cotton dress, setting it carefully aside. After navigating her way through the folds of the dress, she managed to slip it on over her head. She turned to look at herself, surprised by the result. Despite the small amount of make-up and her simple hairstyle—her curly brown hair hung loosely around her shoulders—she looked lovely. 

The lacy white hem hid her bare toes, and the full skirt tapered to her waist, emphasizing her feminine figure. The bodice was brilliantly green, interwoven with lace. It was a simple, but eye-catching design. The sleeves halted at her elbows, clinging tightly to her arms. Her shoulders remained bare except for a thin covering of white lace that encircled her neck and covered her upper back. It showed off her delicate complexion in a sensuous, yet innocent way. She couldn’t help but smile. 

“Madam?” inquired the shopkeeper. “Do you require assistance?” 

Sienna looked over her shoulder, twisting to see the lacings that needed to be tied up at the back. “Oh, yes,” she called back. “One moment.” 

She stepped beyond the heavy curtain, turning her back to the salesman, who expertly tied up the bodice at the back. Once the ties were secure, but not uncomfortably so, Sienna turned to Dark. He was grinning from ear to ear, a sight rare enough that it made her blush crimson for the second time that day. 

“It’s perfect,” he said. “You look gorgeous.” 

She laughed nervously, moving to untie the laces at her back. Dark’s next words shocked her. 

“How much?” Dark asked. 

The salesman gave Dark another haughty glare before reaching for the price tag hanging from Sienna’s dress. “Six hundred rupees,” he announced dryly. 

Sienna blubbered incoherently as Dark rummaged for his money bag. “How about five hundred?” he asked. 

The salesman bristled, obviously not used to having to haggle. “Five hundred and seventy-five,” he replied. 

“I’ll only give you five hundred and thirty at the most,” Dark countered. 

The salesman regarded him for a moment, uncomfortable. Finally, he caved and said, “All right, five hundred and thirty rupees.” 

Dark handed over the funds, turning to the appalled Sienna. “Go change,” he said, grinning at her. “We’ll go back to my place so you can get ready.” 

“Ready for what?” she asked, not sure she wanted to hear the answer. She fumbled with the ties on the dress. 

“I’m taking you out to dinner tonight.” 

She gave him another surprised look, but slipped behind the curtain to remove the dress. She put her own clothes back on, and carefully brought the beautiful gown over to the counter so the salesman could wrap it for her. 

“Enjoy, madam,” he said, his mouth twitching slightly. 

“Thank you,” she replied, nodding her head politely. 

Dark smirked, taking her arm and leading her towards the exit. Sienna paused to put on her shoes, and she noticed from the corner of her eye that she salesman was watching Dark like a hawk. 

It was only after they’d reached North Clocktown that Sienna realized why. Dark had stolen a pair of matching emerald earrings. When she’d protested, Dark had merely shrugged, uttering a few choice words about the nobility. 

“Serves him right for his rudeness,” he commented. 

Sienna sighed, knowing it was a hopeless case. She raised a hand to shield her eyes from the orange afternoon sun as they made their way to Dark’s new house. 

**~oOo~**

Weak sunlight warmed his face, and a soft wind whispered around him, rustling the blades of grass beneath him. When he opened his eyes, the familiar, shady ceiling of treetops greeted him. The rays of sun that managed to break through were a deep orange color; it was late afternoon. There was a distinct coolness surrounding him that revealed he must be lying in the shade of a tree. 

Link sat up, and his eyes fell on the momentous and proud form of the Great Deku Tree. He was in the grove where it all began. 

Link got slowly to his feet, his eyes tracing every distorted knot, every rough line of greying bark. The leaves of the giant tree had withered. Most of them brown and decorating the base the way flowers decorated a headstone. 

Navi hadn’t said anything since they’d left the forest temple. She hovered in front of the dead tree, the glow from her wings dull. 

Link closed his eyes against the sight. It was easier to think. He’d been so overloaded with knowledge and responsibility that his mind had struggled to make sense of. 

There were several things Link accepted, merely because there was no other possibility. Hyrule was in danger, that much was obvious. The second was that he was the Hero of Time. Given the choice, Link wasn’t sure if he would’ve chosen this fate for himself or not. It wasn’t important, however. Hyrule needed help, and he had been chosen. 

When the Great Deku Tree had revealed his destiny, he hadn’t fully understood. When Zelda had told him of the Triforce as a child, he still couldn’t have understood the ramifications of his actions. But he was an adult now, and he understood what it meant to be the Hero of Time. He accepted that there was no one else. Something inside of Link had resonated with the words of the Deku Tree and the words of the Princess. Rauru’s revelations had incited the same feeling. 

The more difficult part of his choice, however, was the necessity of letting go of his childhood. Part of him had held on to it, not quite ready to leave it behind. Link had to accept that the past seven years had indeed been lost to him in the river of time. He could not go back. His destiny lay ahead of him. 

Link opened his eyes again, but he couldn’t bring himself to raise his head and look at the remains of the Great Deku Tree. With his eyes lowered towards the ground, he noticed something odd. Among the mass of dead, browned leaves remained a single, determined green shoot. It thrust out of the ground, a tiny sprout seeking the sunlight. 

“Navi…” Link said, kneeling down and clearing away some leaves to get a better look. “Come look at this.” 

Navi flew over, resting on Link’s shoulder as he cleared a spot for the little sprout. Even in the shade of the mighty tree, a trickle of sunlight had managed to find the budding plant. There was a sudden, muted rumbling sound. It was the only warning they got before the sprout shot upwards, wrenching a new tree out of the soil with it. 

Link jumped back in surprise, unable to believe his eyes as a new, stout little Deku tree shook itself free of dirt. Small knots in the tree’s flesh made up a tiny face, and it seemed to smile at Link. 

“Link,” it greeted him by name, its knot-eyes turning up in a smile. 

Link crept forward, peering at the tree curiously. “You know my name?” he asked the magical tree, and it nodded, its budding branches swaying with the movement. 

“I’m the Deku Tree Sprout!” it announced cheerfully. “Whenever a Great Deku Tree dies, a new one like me begins to grow. However, I couldn’t grow because of the darkness emanating from the forest. But now that it has been dispelled, I can grow and flourish. Thanks!” 

Link raised a brow. The tiny tree spoke in a high, sing-song voice. Its knot-face continued to smile, but its tone became serious. 

“There is something I must tell you, Link,” the sprout began. “As you saw, none of your childhood friends recognized you.” 

“The Kokiri never grow up,” Link said, repeating the words of Mido and the skullkid. 

The sprout nodded again. “They didn’t recognize you in your grown-up body. That is because you are not a Kokiri, but a Hylian.” 

Link mulled that over. The unanswered questions that had plagued him were clear now. Suspicions he hadn’t paused to answer himself had been confirmed. He had been able to leave the forest with no ill effects at being cut off from its magical energy. He had aged from a child to an adult. It also explained his desire to explore the world outside the forest, something the Kokiri had considered odd. 

Navi flew off Link’s shoulder and spoke to the sprout. “If Link is a Hylian, why was he raised here as a Kokiri? I always thought that outsiders couldn’t enter this forest…” she trailed off, confusion marking her features. 

Link snapped to attention, interested in hearing how he had come to arrive in Kokiri Forest. 

The sprout straightened, its leaves rustling. “Some time ago, before the late King of Hyrule unified this country, there was a fierce war in these lands. Escaping from the fires of war, a Hylian mother and her infant son entered this forbidden forest.” 

Something clicked in Link’s mind. The Kokiri didn’t have mothers. They were given life by their guardian, the Deku tree. But Link was a Hylian, so it stood to reason that he had had Hylian parents as well. 

“The mother was gravely injured,” the tree continued. “Her only choice was to leave her baby in the care of the guardian of the forest, the Great Deku Tree. He took the baby into the forest, sensing that he was a child of destiny. The baby was then raised as a Kokiri, and the Deku Tree waited for the day when his destiny would come.” 

Link swallowed. “So...I was the infant. And my mother…” 

The tree’s knots inverted, creating a frown. “Unfortunately, she passed soon after. The forest was meant to keep you safe until the time of destiny came. And so, you were always bound to leave this forest, Link.” 

The sprout looked up at him, its leaves swaying with the breeze. “The forest has been set right again, thanks to your efforts. Your friends are grateful, though they may not know it. Now you know what you must do,” the young tree finished. 

Its high voice held a note of finality. The knots rearranged themselves and moved no more. 

Link stood, missing pieces all fitting together in his mind. He had been meant to leave the forest. He had been right. The only way was forward. Link reached back for the hilt of the Master Sword. It fit perfectly in his hand, as if it had been molded just for him. 

“Where do we go from here?” he asked Navi. The knots on the sprout had frozen; the tree had become dormant for the time being. 

Navi spun in a circle, her eyes resting on the north. Her wings fluttered and specks of blue dust were shaken free. “Kakariko,” she said with certainty. “The Sages are said to come from all corners of Hyrule. The second Sage is the Sage of Fire.” 

“Death Mountain,” Link concluded, following her gaze to the imposing peak, just barely visible even from this distance. 

“Come on,” Navi urged, zipping away. “I know a shortcut back to Kakariko.” 

**~oOo~**

Sienna peered over at Dark, who was busy studying his menu. For perhaps the hundredth time that evening she pondered what he could be thinking. He had become quite adept at hiding his thoughts from her. His gaze flickered upwards, meeting hers. 

“You look lovely,” he complimented, hiding the lower half of his face behind the menu. 

She smiled and gave him a polite thank you, but inwardly she frowned. He was infuriating. She wore the green dress he’d bought her earlier, and had done her hair up. She felt very overdressed in the cozy, laid-back restaurant. But Dark had insisted on it. It was, after all, her favorite eatery. 

“I had a great time today,” she told him, setting her menu down. 

Dark mimicked her actions, revealing his expression. He seemed distracted to her, but she couldn’t be sure. “I’m glad,” he replied, giving her a smile. 

“Dark,” she said, her brow furrowing when she noticed the lines of strain around his mouth. “What’s the matter?” 

“Nothing,” he said quickly. 

“I know you well enough to know when you’re lying,” she commented. Dark sighed. Sienna continued, “If you’re having buyer’s remorse, we can return the dress.” 

Dark actually laughed, reaching across the table for her hand, capturing it between both of his. “It’s not the dress, Sienna. It’s yours.” 

“Then what is it?” she persisted. 

His fingers twitched and he made as if to pull his hands away. Sienna tightened her grip, looking up into his face. Dark stared back, his eyes shifting warily. “There’s something I haven’t told you,” he finally said. 

She fought to keep her expression neutral. “What is it?” 

Leaning close so as not to be overheard, Dark quickly filled her in on everything Fierce had told him about his younger brother and the role he would play in Hyrule’s future. 

Sienna reached for her glass of water with her free hand, taking a sip. Finally, she said, “If I didn’t know him better, I’d say Fierce was joking around with us.” 

“The sentiment is shared,” Dark said, freeing a hand to reach for his own water glass. 

“What are you going to do now?” she asked. 

His reply was interrupted by their server. The pair placed their orders quickly and Dark waited until the young woman was far enough away before answering Sienna. 

“About what?” he asked, lifting his water glass to his mouth. 

“Don’t play dumb,” she said, her voice low. “Your brother.” 

Dark set the glass down with a muted thud. “Even if I did want to go looking for him, I have no idea where to start. He’s probably in Hyrule where I can’t reach. He has his own quest to deal with, and I have a life.” 

“He’s your brother,” Sienna said with a little more force. “Don’t you want to know what happened to him? If I found out my family was still alive, I would—“ 

“We’re connected only by blood,” Dark interrupted. “Other than that he’s a stranger. He probably doesn’t know I exist.” 

Sienna sat back in her seat, snatching up her water glass. “I don’t understand you,” she told him. “I would be overjoyed if I were in your shoes. To have some of my family back?” 

“I’m being practical,” Dark replied. “Fierce told me our paths aren’t meant to cross yet or something like that. I can’t interfere, even if I wanted to.” 

“I’m sure we could find a way to get you back to Hyrule.” 

“I’m meant to stay here,” Dark insisted. “It’s where I’m supposed to be.” 

Exasperated, Sienna said, “What’s holding you here? Fierce told you everything you need to know. You don’t have to bide your time anymore.” 

“Sienna.” 

“What?” she asked, looking up at him through blurry eyes. For some absurd reason, tears had begun to well there. 

“I’m staying here,” he said quietly, as if to reassure her. His hand slid across the table again, grasping hers. “You’re holding me here. I’m not leaving you.” 

Sienna bit her lip to keep the tears from falling. “You’ve already left,” she whispered. “You’re delaying the inevitable. Fierce always told me you’d have to go back to Hyrule. Why in Nayru’s name are you staying?” 

It had been torture, knowing her time with him was finite. The eve of his birthday, she had known. Her time was almost up. Dark would have to return to Hyrule and live the life he was supposed to have. 

Today she had assumed would be her last with him, and it had taken all of her strength not to cry. Now it was next to impossible; silent tears escaped and stained her cheeks. 

“Sienna,” Dark repeated, and she felt the tips of his fingers touching her face, brushing aside the first tears. 

She inhaled, squeezing her eyes shut and dusting her own fingers across her face. Her tears under control, she forced herself to meet his eyes. 

“I’m still here because of you. I want you to come live with me.” 

Stunned, Sienna asked, voice cracking from the crying, “What?” She wanted to be sure of his meaning, rather than assuming the request was romantic in nature. 

“I want us to live together,” Dark repeated. “I want us to be together,” he added after a slight hesitation. 

Her hands gripped the edges of the table tightly. She squeezed her lips together, trying not to laugh—it was the only thing she felt she could do in light of the shock. Seeing her expression, Dark laughed first. It was a bit shaky and awkward, which made her laugh in return. Her hands slowly released their grip, coming to rest on top of his on the other side of the table. 

“Dark,” she spoke softly, like a mother delivering bad news to her child. “We tried this already, when we were young. It didn’t work.” 

“We’re not young anymore,” Dark told her, rolling his eyes at her excuse. “As young,” he added quickly, seeing her eyebrow raise. “We’re not stupid kids anymore. I know what I want, and I want you. I love you.” 

Sienna pulled away from him, her eyes sad. “You’ve told me that before, Dark. But you didn’t want my love.” 

Dark sighed heavily, giving her a remorseful expression. “I meant it. I did love you then. But I didn’t think I deserved for you to love me back.” 

“Don’t be stupid.” 

He sighed again. “You know I’m a not a good person. You’ve known me all my life.” 

She laughed. “Why do you want to be with me now, then? You might ruin me,” she joked. 

He smiled back, amused. “Maybe you’re my salvation, love.” 

“Doubtful.” She giggled as his hands slid across the table, seeking hers. 

“What’s your answer?” he asked, all seriousness now. He gripped her hands tightly between his, looking up at her through his lashes. She cursed him silently. She’d never been able to resist that look. 

******* **

Hours later she sat next to the window, studying the unforgettable landscape. Snowhead’s gorgeous summits stretched out before her, coupling beautifully with the peaked roofs of the sleepy Greywood Road. 

Fires had been lit all along the top of the city’s walls, the light rising into the night and meeting the stars themselves. She smiled, enjoying the view. Her eyes drew away from the outside to gaze instead at his reflection in the window. 

Noticing her stare, he grinned back and walked over to stand behind where she sat at the window bench. She watched him move in the glass, her eyes devouring the sight of him as a warm hand slid over her shoulder. 

She still wore the green dress, though it was untied at the back, the strings hanging loosely. His fingers easily pushed the sleeve aside, baring her shoulders and upper back. Watching their reflections still, she admired the way his tan skin looked paired with hers as his fingers traced her clavicle. His head lowered and she felt his mouth press against her exposed neck. 

“I missed you,” he murmured. 

She felt familiar, stable. It was something he’d been lacking and had desperately wanted back. She was like a song he had enjoyed hearing ages ago and had almost forgotten the name of. The rush of pleasure touching her skin brought him reminded him of the many stupid decisions and the many missed opportunities. 

“Five years is much too long,” she agreed, turning to look at him over her shoulder. “I don’t want to regret this again,” she warned him, her eyes searching his face. “This is your last chance to walk away.” 

“I won’t,” he promised, his fingers clasping her chin and tilting her face upwards. 

Her smile was bright in the darkness, her beautiful lips coming to rest against his ear. “Then I’m yours,” she whispered. 

She stood, coming to face him. He groaned with pleasure when her delicate hands slid up his neck and threaded themselves through his hair, tugging him down for a kiss. Her dress quickly pooled at her feet and she stepped carefully out of it. Standing as barren of any garments as he, she wrapped both arms around him, pulling his body intimately close. They wasted no time becoming reacquainted. 

**~oOo~**   
_Death Mountain Trail _

True to her word, Navi had known of a shortcut back to the mountainside village. It had saved them a lot of time, which would prove to be a blessing. Death Mountain was an active volcano, and Kakariko was under constant threat from the mountain’s eruptions. Thanks to the efforts of the Goron tribe, however, the temperamental mountain was kept under control. 

Link had planned to stop in Kakariko the night and set out for Goron City in the morning. Things hadn’t gone as planned, and the pair now found themselves climbing the steep mountain pass as quickly as they could. They didn’t have much time to waste. 

The mountain was on the verge of collapse.


	26. Chapter 26

The heat was unbearable. It seared him from the inside out, causing him to feel weak and disoriented. His heart beat frantically in his chest, crashing and collapsing like the volcano itself. 

The mountain would either crumble or erupt; it was difficult to tell which would come first. 

His instincts screamed into deaf ears to get out before it was too late. But he couldn’t tear his eyes from the raging beast charging straight at him, its lethal tail colliding with the cavern walls, bringing the great mountain down from the inside. 

Goron City was in ruins when he arrived. Darunia’s son, named Link after his father’s sworn brother, had told Link the terrible story of how Ganondorf had captured the other gorons and planned to sacrifice them to a dragon. 

After revealing to Link the location of the Fire Temple, deep within the mountain, the young goron had asked him to help his father. Link and Navi had immediately trekked deep into the centre of the volcano. Sure enough, they’d found the Goron Elder there waiting for them. After a joyful reunion that nearly ground Link’s ribs to dust, Darunia had explained the plight of the Goron race. 

_“The dragon Volvagia used to be the guardian of this mountain. Dragons are really quite gentle creatures. Keep to themselves, mostly. Wiser than anything. They’ve been hunted to near extinction, which is why they hide out here in the mountains,” Darunia had told him. _

_“What’s happened to him? The villagers told me the mountain is near erupting. They hadn’t heard anything from Goron City for weeks…now I see why,” Link had asked. _

_Darunia had turned to Link, showed him the gigantic hammer he held in his huge hands. “Link, this is the Goron’s treasure. It’s one of the only things that can crack a dragon’s tough armor. The truth is, Volvagia has been placed under a spell by Ganondorf. I’m not sure how, but it’s my duty as Goron Elder to kill Volvagia and prevent him from destroying our home and the rest of the land.” _

_Link lowered his head. “Ganondorf is using the power of the Triforce. Even something as powerful as a dragon would succumb to it.” _

_Darunia nodded in understanding. “Ganondorf has already captured many of my people and fed them to Volvagia as a warning. I have no choice but to kill it and end the curse.” _

_“But you said dragons aren’t naturally evil. There has to be something else we can do,” Link protested. _

_Darunia shook his head sadly. “I am sorry, Link. I do this with a heavy heart, but it must be done.” _

Link’s thoughts shifted back to the present. The great beast opened its jaws wide, closing in. Deep in the dragon’s tunnel-like throat, light bloomed and rushed outwards. Fire threatened to swallow him. 

Navi screamed his name in warning. The ground shook and Link struggled to keep his balance. 

He raised a hand to protect himself, and the rock under him crumbled. Darunia and Navi’s voices called out in shock as Link was thrown onto a rock ledge several feet below. 

He landed hard on his back, and the wind was knocked from his lungs. Link could only gasp in his struggle to draw in the next breath. He’d taken quite a beating from the enormous dragon, and his strength was failing him. He couldn’t stall much longer. He knew he’d have to take the shot. 

Volvagia spotted him and charged again, smoke spilling out of its mouth. Link scrambled for his bow, knocking an arrow and pulling back the string. Volvagia howled at him, its jaws opening wide to reveal a row of sharp teeth. 

Link’s pointer finger twitched; he couldn’t wait any longer. Now was the time. His left hand released its grip, his right still holding tightly to the fairy’s bow. Link closed his eyes. 

Small though the arrow was compared to the beast, it hit its mark. The dragon screamed in pain, its snake-like body contorting as it tried in vain to rip the tiny missile from its eye. 

Volvagia crashed to the ground with a screech, head lowered in pain. Darunia rushed forward, given the opportunity he needed to strike. He raised the massive hammer high above his head, bringing the weapon down with incredible force on the dragon’s head. 

Link kept his eyes shut. The crunching sound of bone met his ears. 

“Link,” Darunia’s voice said urgently. The Goron’s mammoth hand landed on Link’s shoulder, pushing him forward. 

He could hear the thing breathing, shallow and labored though it sounded. He finally opened his eyes again to see the pitiful sight before him. The dragon’s armored head had been crushed by the hammer, the vulnerable and fleshy forehead and neck revealed by the blow. 

One strike and the poor beast would be put out of its misery. The spell would be broken. 

Link forced his exhausted body to move, reaching one hand back for the hilt of his sword. The dragon’s vibrant green eyes had opened to slits, watching his movements with the pupil-less depths. Link closed his eyes. 

When he opened them, the dragon still watched him cautiously. Link raised his sword high, holding it there like an executioner waiting to strike. 

The dragon let out a rumbling groan. Link’s arms shook and his heart pounded in his chest again. How could he kill something that wasn’t of its own will? It felt wrong; it felt like something Ganondorf would do. 

Link tightened his grip on the sword. It was exactly something Ganondorf would do. The tyrant had set this up, knowing Link would have to be the one to break the curse. He had the Master Sword, the only weapon capable of breaking a spell such as this one. It was a test. He’d wanted Link to feel divided. 

Link gritted his teeth. He would never forgive Ganondorf for this. 

The dragon’s eyes closed as the Master Sword fell in a graceful arc. 

*********

From a nearby ledge, hidden in the natural crevices of the volcano’s walls, Sheik watched the Hero of Time’s movements. 

The Hero pulled his sword from the corpse of the great beast, his grip loosening on the hilt. Sheik’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he watched the Hero collapse from exhaustion. 

He wasn’t dead, of course. He was simply unconscious. The blue fairy that accompanied him bounced up and down on his head, attempting to revive him as she shouted at him. 

Sheik stood from his crouch long enough to catapult himself off the ledge. He landed gracefully in front of Link’s unconscious form, startling the fairy and the giant Goron. Darunia raised his hammer threateningly at the sudden appearance of the Sheikah. 

“A Sheikah?” he asked, one brow raised in skepticism. 

Sheik straightened, turning his crimson eyes on the Goron Elder. “My name is Sheik. I have been charged with guiding the Hero of Time.” 

Darunia didn’t lower his hammer. “By who?” he demanded. 

Sheik didn’t answer. Instead, he reached into his belt for a small vial of red liquid, kneeling down next to Link’s head. Darunia cautiously moved closer, his weapon arm lowering. He’d known several Sheikah in his lifetime, and was used to their strange habits. Nonetheless, he kept a close eye on the stranger. 

“Hey! What are you doing?” Navi tittered, flying in front of Sheik’s hands as he reached for Link. 

“It wouldn’t exactly be in Hyrule’s best interest if the Chosen Hero were to die,” Sheik said, a hint of sarcasm lacing his tone. 

Darunia just grunted in reply, unimpressed. Navi, irritated, flew a few feet away and hovered impatiently in the air. Sheik had managed to turn Link’s head enough to pour the red potion down his throat, easing most of the cuts and burns that marred the young man’s body. 

“He’ll need more soon,” Sheik said, directing his words at Darunia. “For now he needs rest.” 

Darunia crossed his impressive arms over his stone chest. “Rest he can get in Goron City. As for red potion…” he trailed off, a bit disconcerted. Gorons had a natural immunity to most injuries; they had no need of red potion. 

Sensing his hesitation, Sheik reached into his belt a second time, producing a much larger stash of red potion. “Enough?” 

Darunia growled, tucking the heavy hammer under his arm before bending down. “Hold on, Brother,” he said to Link’s unconscious form. 

Darunia easily lifted Link, carrying him and the hammer towards the cavern entrance. Navi hurried after him, floating around Link in concern. 

Over his shoulder, Darunia noticed Sheik inspecting the dragon’s corpse. It had withered away to bones after Link had slain it; a side effect of the curse being broken. All that remained was the skeletal head. 

To Darunia’s surprise, Sheik reached out and ran a pale finger over it. The skeleton head of the dragon disintegrated to a fine grayish dust. Darunia watched warily as the Sheikah stared at his own hand, flecks of bone dust still clinging to his fingertip. His gaze seemed far away; his eyes were cold, unresponsive even. 

After a long moment, Sheik seemed to shake out of his reverie. He followed silently behind Darunia, moving with cat-like agility and silence. 

Soon enough, they reached Goron City. Darunia quickly saw to it that Link was taken to a secluded cavern deep within the city, one that hadn’t been destroyed and could be used as a hospital ward. With Link resting and Navi watching over him, Darunia turned to Sheik. 

“Follow me,” Darunia said, the authority in his voice evident. Sheik didn’t protest, letting the Elder lead him back to his own chambers. 

“Elder Darunia—“ 

“Thank you,” Darunia cut him off. “For saving my Brother.” 

Sheik didn’t reply. Darunia studied his eyes again; something about them set off alarms in his head. He wasn’t sure he could trust this stranger, Sheikah or not. 

Again, Sheik seemed to be able to read his mind. “I am not your enemy,” Sheik assured him. “I am here to guide the Hero. I will see to it that he recovers.” 

“I cannot just take your word that you are an ally,” Darunia said, squinting in an attempt to see the youth’s face. 

Sheik seemed to hesitate a moment, going so still he was almost a living statue. Then, he raised his right hand, palm towards his face. Slowly, he removed the wrappings that covered his skin, revealing the flesh of his right hand to Darunia. The Goron Elder, initially confused by the action, drew in a sharp breath. 

“You—“ he stammered, his eyes widening in shock. 

Anything he might have said was cut off as bright red light erupted from the ground around his feet, surrounding him and solidifying into a crystal chamber. The red crystal trapped Darunia. Before he could raise the hammer with a threatening expression, he vanished. 

Darunia gone, Sheik walked back into the main cavern of Goron City. He took several turns, finding his way deep into the mountain stronghold without getting lost. 

With Volvagia defeated, the gorons still trapped inside the Fire Temple needed to be brought home. 

**~oOo~ **

Blue light filtered through his eyelids, his first hint to where he was. Link opened his eyes, unsurprised to find himself back in the Chamber of Sages. It also wasn’t much of a stretch of the imagination when he saw Darunia standing in front of him, feet planted firmly on the red pedestal. 

From the corner of his eye, the green pedestal winked at him. This time, no one stood there waiting for him. Link looked away. 

“Brother,” Darunia was saying, his face stretched into a broad smile. “On behalf of the Goron race, I thank you. You turned out to be a real man after all.” Darunia chuckled, the sound resonating throughout the vast chamber. 

Link smiled back, unable to help it. It felt odd to be called a man, rather than a kid. A memory darkened Link’s good mood. In his mind’s eye he could see Ganondorf outside Castle Town’s gates, and himself, helpless to stop him. 

“I’m not so sure about that,” Link said, frowning. 

Darunia laughed again, shaking his head. “Of course you are, Brother. You have come a long way.” 

Link’s frown deepened. “I hesitated…to kill Volvagia. When I had to make the hard choice, I almost failed.” 

Darunia’s dark eyes softened. “Link,” he said, fixing him with his gaze. “You did not fail. The curse has been broken. Your trials have made you stronger, but you must become stronger still.” 

Link cocked his head in confusion. “You mean for what lies ahead, right? I need to become strong enough to overpower Ganondorf.” 

Darunia chuckled again. “You know we Gorons value strength, Link. Ganondorf is powerful—more so than you are now, I’m afraid.” Darunia paused, considering his next words. “But he is also weaker than you. Above strength, we Gorons believe a strong heart is needed. Without it, all strength and power in the world is nothing. Ganondorf possesses this kind of hollow strength.” 

Darunia chuckled. “His heart is weak. It is how I am certain that he will fail where you will succeed.” 

Link regarded his friend with surprise, considering his words. A strong heart. Was Darunia right? 

Link had spent weeks honing his skills, trying to become stronger and more powerful. To do so, he had to master his sword. But even with all the training in the world and a sword meant to destroy evil, Link had doubted he would be able to win a battle against the tyrant. After all, Ganondorf held the Triforce in his hands. Nothing could stop him. 

“Hey, Brother!” Darunia stirred him from his thoughts, raising his arms high. “Take the power of the fire spirits with you—and my friendship.” 

Bright red light blinded Link. He squinted, reaching out a hand for the crimson medallion that appeared. Link looked down at the small coin, emblazoned with a flame symbol. 

Darunia smiled at him one last time, calling out to Link before disappearing inside a halo of red light. “Don’t forget, Link, now you and I are true Brothers!” 

Link was left alone in the bottomless, ceiling-less chamber. It was eerily quiet when he was here alone. The waterfalls of blue light continued to flow and pulse silently, illuminating the glowing platform where the Sages’ pedestals rested. The air was neither warm nor cold. With not even a hint of breeze, there didn’t seem to be air here at all. 

“Link,” a deep voice called, snapping Link from his thoughts. 

Link turned to the bright yellow pedestal. “Rauru,” he said, surprised. 

“Something is troubling you, Hero.” It was a statement, not a question. 

“Yes,” Link admitted, turning to face the ancient Sage. “It’s about the Triforce.” 

Rauru inclined his head. “I believe that Princess Zelda has told you the story of the Triforce’s creation.” 

“She did, but—“ 

Rauru held up a hand to interrupt him. “I told you that Ganondorf had seized hold of the Triforce after entering this sacred place. Truthfully, there is a part of the story that has been left out. Ganondorf does not possess the complete power of the Triforce.” 

Link blinked. “How can that be possible? What’s happened to the Triforce?” he asked, his panic rising at the possibility that the ancient, sacred power that protected their world might have been destroyed or lost. 

Rauru fixed Link with a serious look. “When Ganondorf seized the sacred power, it sensed the evil in his heart. He was left with the Triforce of Power, the piece he had truly desired, and became the evil tyrant who now rules over Hyrule.” 

“What happened to the remaining pieces of the Triforce then?” Link asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer. 

“Once the Triforce has been split into three, the power seeks out those chosen to be Hyrule’s champions. During times of great darkness such as this, the power left by the gods awakens those individuals. You know already that you are the Hero of Time chosen by the goddess. So you must know that the power to combat the Triforce of Power lies within you.” 

Link frowned, mulling over the new information. “If I hold a piece of the Triforce, why haven’t I noticed it?” 

Rauru chuckled. “It rests within you. As I said before, you must restore the strength of the Master Sword. In doing so, the power that was granted you centuries ago will return as well.” 

“Centuries ago?” Link repeated in confusion. “What are you talking about?” 

“Ask Darunia about the Sky People,” Rauru said cryptically, further confusing him. 

Link could feel the Chamber of Sages shifting, knowing it meant that his time was almost up. 

“Wait!” he called to Rauru’s fading silhouette. The old Sage turned to him, his eyes piercing. “About the Triforce,” Link said, fighting the sensation of falling that would bring him back to Hyrule. “It is the essence of the goddesses, right? But Ganondorf has managed to corrupt it—just _what_ is he?” 

A strange look crossed Rauru’s face. He never got the chance to answer, as the floor dissolved beneath Link’s feet. He fell away from the chamber and Rauru, falling faster and faster until there was nothing. 

**~oOo~ **

_Goron City_

When the tunnels started to become warm and humid, he knew he was close. Soon enough, pale wisps of steam were clouding his vision and filling his nostrils. 

Sheik pushed aside a small boulder that acted as a door, placed within a furrow so it was more mobile. Steam crashed into him, causing him to cough at the sudden onslaught. 

Inside the small, heated chamber was a natural pool of water, heated continuously by the volcano. The gorons' hot springs. 

Sheik let out a sigh, replacing the boulder to prevent the steam from escaping. He glanced upwards, towards the crack in the top of the cavern that opened to the sky. The blue sky had been painted with streaks of red and orange; it was nearing sunset. He didn’t have much time. 

He carefully removed the wraps obscuring his hands and unwound the bindings around his chest. Next he peeled off the form-fitting blue garb and hid it behind a rock with the wrappings. 

Sheik stepped into the opaque water, his bared skin tingling from the excessive heat. Loosening the wrappings around his head made long, golden hair cascade free. 

The pool was shallow enough that the water only reached his waist while standing. Sheik settled into a nook between two craggy rocks, sinking into the water until only the top of his shoulders and head were visible. 

Steam rose in continuous puffs of white, like smoke from a dragon’s nostrils. The humidity coated his hair and he inhaled slowly, feeling the dampness pass through his airways. 

The hot, heavy steam was beginning to work its magic. It made him feel relaxed—lightheaded even. 

Sheik breathed in and out a few times, enjoying the experience. His fingertips brushed against his legs and his eyes snapped open. Opaque though the water was, his tan flesh was still just visible beneath the water. The reflection of his face on the pool’s surface was vague—he appeared to be almost faceless. 

And faceless he was, in a way. The face Sheik possessed was a lie. 

It had been crafted magically as a disguise and made to be deliberately androgynous to hide his true features. The body was slender and delicate, yet lacking any tell-tale feminine curves, defined muscles, or distinct genitalia. Sheik could easily be mistaken for a young, boyish girl just as easily as he could be taken for an unusually skinny boy. 

The disguise was simply an empty shell in which to pass unnoticed. 

Sheik didn’t mind. The ploy was, after all, necessary. Still, Death Mountain’s hot springs were secluded; they were rarely trespassed upon by anyone other than the gorons. So deep in the volcano, it should be safe. Sheik raised a hand out of the water and pressed it to his chest. 

Light bloomed beneath his palm, stretching outward until it surrounded his body. Beneath the shroud of light, his form began to change. The face softened; the jaw remoulded its shape. The irises changed from crimson to sky blue, the hair becoming a richer gold. The limbs and shoulders became smaller and adopted a feminine roundness. The waist tapered and the hips rounded out. As the light shrunk back into the palm, Sheik no longer sat in the naturally heated spring. 

She lifted a hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her hand still elevated, she turned her head to observe the familiarity of it. A faint smile touched her lips. 

A series of dull thuds reached her ears, echoing through the caverns. Quickly, she hid herself behind a rock that was half-submerged, already knowing who it was. She couldn’t let him see her—it was much too dangerous for them both. 

The footsteps continued, the noise bouncing off the cavern walls towards her. She sensed, rather than heard, him come in. There was the rustling sound of clothing being removed, followed by a quick splash of water landing on the damp stone floor. She stayed where she was, out of his sight. 

He gasped, as if in pain, and a soft, bell-like sound followed him. 

“Are you all right?” came the fairy’s voice. 

“Fine,” was his reply, not thoroughly convincing. 

She chanced a look, moving very slowly to peer around the volcanic rock. Link lounged in the hot spring pool, directly across from her hiding place. His head was back, his arms back to support his weight. His fairy companion, Navi, was floating lazily above the steaming water’s surface. 

She glanced back at Link. His bare chest, arms, and neck glistened with water droplets, his fair skin catching the light of the moon shining down into the cavern. Steam billowed around him as he breathed in, his chest rising as air filled his lungs, warm and luxuriating. On the exhale, he raised his head and opened his eyes, his breath rising in a cloud before him. 

Link's head moved an inch in her direction and she whipped out of sight, afraid he had seen her. Even though their gazes had not met, his electric blue eyes were striking, now more so than before. As a child, she remembered them holding warmth and a carefree mischievousness. Now, in the few times they had met again, she’d seen the childish innocence less and less. 

Shrinking back into the water, she lamented the fact that so much of the boy she had known was disappearing. It was inevitable, and she had expected nothing less. But to witness the changes she had unknowingly burdened him with made her heart heavy with remorse. 

She peered around the rock again. Link was staring intently into the foggy water. His expression had darkened; his brows furrowed over troubled eyes. In them she saw doubt and confusion. Grief. She lowered her own gaze. 

She had felt so cheated in the Temple of Time. Somehow, the part of her mind that had held on to her childhood hopes had convinced her that their reunion would be a happy one. That they would meet again as friends. 

She had almost let herself slip; she had almost let him see her. Instead, she had been forcefully reminded that everything had changed. Link had looked at her, and the little girl’s dream had dissolved. He had looked at her without a spark of recognition. 

She longed to go over to him, to speak to him. To look into his eyes and have him look back with something other than suspicion and distrust. But even those small hopes had been dashed by the realization that he probably blamed her for the situation he was in: the impossible situation of saving Hyrule from its fate. 

“Where do you think she is?” Link’s voice. 

The fairy paused in her flight, landing on Link’s shoulder. “Who, Link?” 

“Zelda.” 

The sound was as alarming as a slap to the face, and she muffled a gasp. 

Years of taking on a hollow identity and assuming another name had made her a stranger to herself. She raised her right hand once more, studying the mark there. It was the only reminder of who she was, and it was a small comfort to know she still had it. The mark had begun to glow when he’d approached, reacting to his proximity. 

Navi hesitated. “I…I don’t know, Link. No one has seen her in years. Most assume that she’s been long dead.” 

“She's _not_ dead,” Link said in a firm voice. 

There was a splashing sound, and Navi said, “When Ganondorf took power, she was forced into hiding for her own safety. His followers have been searching relentlessly for her, even now.” 

Yes, she thought, forced into hiding. And here I am again, hiding. 

Feelings of resentment and powerlessness clashed within her. She hated not being able to do more. But without the magical disguise, she would be truly powerless. At least she was somewhat free, unlike so many of her people. 

She glanced at Link again from her hiding spot. In a way, they were the only two left who weren’t under Ganondorf’s thumb. Even so, they were bound by something neither one of them could control. There was no changing who they were. The mark on her hand glowed brightly for a moment, as if to remind her that her destiny could not be altered. 

She sighed and slumped against the rock. If only she could speak to him, apologize for her mistakes, for the responsibility she had thrust on him. The small voice inside told her she was many years too late. 

Link and Navi ceased their conversation after a few minutes. Link had lapsed into a light sleep, his energy still low as he recovered from his wounds. She waited several minutes until she was certain he was unconscious before rising out of the spring. 

Creeping behind the rock where her clothing was waiting, she hurriedly dressed. Without donning her Sheik mask, she walked over to where Link rested. Navi was also dozing, floating aimlessly on the water’s surface like a brightly colored lily pad. 

As she gazed at his face, she felt a blanket of sorrow envelop her. He was older than he had been, but it was more than physical age. Already the trials and worries he’d experienced carved their scars upon him. His brow was creased deeply, even in sleep, and the corners of his mouth were turned in a frown rather than his habitual smile. 

The cold comfort of sorrow was pierced by the insistent stab of guilt as her eyes flickered over her friend’s troubled face. There were more challenges ahead, she knew. Would they irrevocably change him? Who would he be at the end? Link shifted in his sleep, and she turned away. 

As she shifted her form back to that of Sheik’s, she made a silent vow to herself. It would be extremely dangerous for her, but she would do more to aid Link. She couldn’t play it safe any longer. There was too much at stake. 

Sheik stood in the hot springs cavern, clothes sticking uncomfortably to his skin. He glanced back at the hero for a moment, assuring himself that he was indeed asleep. 

Satisfied, Sheik turned on his heel, summoning the magic in his blood as he did so. He felt it rush through his system, the energy crackling and causing his skin to feel electrified with its strength. In his mind’s eye he held the place he wanted to go. 

The spell worked lightning fast. With the simple motion of turning, Sheik left Goron City and now found himself in a dark corridor. 

He turned his head; the corridor was deserted. Drab stone walls and an endless thick, blood-red carpet awaited him. He moved forward into the darkness, unhurried. 

Making an educated guess, he quickly made a right, climbing another flight of stairs covered in the macabre-colored carpet. At the top he took a left and a second right, arriving outside a pair of tall, beautifully carved wooden doors. Silent as a whisper, he pushed the heavy door in and entered the library. 

It was a beautiful room, in its austere and serene way. It was one of the few untouched rooms still left in the castle. In fact, it had been quite forgotten by everyone except for the present king, who had taken an interest in some of the more obscure volumes lining the towering shelves. 

Most of the bookshelves had been pushed aside to create more space, the books left to be coated in dust. There was one particular shelf though, that had had every last book stolen from it. Sheik knew for a fact that these books dealt with the distant past of Hyrule and many forgotten legends that had been passed down by the royal family. 

For not the first time, he wondered why Ganondorf could possibly be interested in old mythologies like that. As Sheik had correctly guessed, Ganondorf stood over the large oak desk in the center of the room. He looked very tired; his eyes bore the mask of insomnia. 

Hearing Sheik clear his throat, the tyrant king looked up from the material he was studying. 

“Sheik,” he greeted him, his voice echoing hollowly in the room. “What have you to tell me?” 

Sheik didn’t hesitate, keeping his eyes trained on Ganondorf’s face for his reaction. “Volvagia has been defeated, my lord.” 

Ganondorf’s face showed little emotion; he had become accustomed to hiding it. His fingers clenched slightly on a sheaf of paper he’d been reaching for. “I see,” was all he said in reply to Sheik’s message. 

He couldn’t be sure, but Sheik thought he saw a streak of fear in the king’s eyes before it was quickly erased. Ganondorf didn’t say anything more, so Sheik turned to leave. His fingertips had rested on the doorknob before he spoke again. 

“Sheik, deliver this to Captain Aveil. Immediately,” Ganondorf instructed, retrieving a letter from the mess of papers and volumes that littered the desk’s surface. 

Sheik strode back to the desk, taking the paper from the king’s grasp. “What is it?” he asked, curious. 

“An execution warrant,” Ganondorf announced without looking up. 

Sheik read the name listed and nearly choked. He had to ensure this particular warrant was never delivered, its sentence never brought to fruition. With one last order to continue tailing the Hero of Time, Ganondorf dismissed him. 

Sheik closed the library doors behind him, trying to work out Ganondorf’s motives. He would have to hurry, before Link was ready to travel again. 

Sheik pictured the Gerudo fortress in his mind, ready to warp there. Before the spell was complete, he remembered something he had forgotten to do. 

There was somewhere he had to be before leaving for the desert. He changed his target and warped instead to Zora’s domain.


	27. The Sky People

When she woke, it was earlier than usual. Faint dawn light sprinkled the room from a gap in the window curtains, reaching the end of the bedspread. With a sigh and a stretch, she sat up and glanced around the bedroom. Dark was nowhere to be seen; she frowned. 

She’d been staying in his house for just over a week now. They’d already collected all of her things from the cottage in Snowhead and said goodbye to Fierce. As excited as she’d been to live with Dark, it still didn’t feel like _her_ home too. 

Now, sitting alone in his bed, she felt oddly at home. Quiet as a mouse, Sienna slipped her feet out from under the blankets and scurried across the floor. The door creaked open with a twist of the brass knob, and she stuck her head out of the open door to look down the hallway. It was empty, so she slipped down to the kitchen to make breakfast for herself. 

Several minutes later, she sat at the kitchen table eating the remains of her breakfast, when there three or four hard knocks sounded on the door, like someone was pounding their fist against it. 

Startled, she nearly choked on a bite of food as she rose to answer it. She didn’t even make it into the other room before whoever was on the other side kicked the door clean off its hinges, the now-useless wooden plank flying across the room and colliding with a mirror on the wall. 

Sienna shrieked in surprise, covering her ears with her hands instinctively. The shattered mirror lay in pieces at her feet, the door having just missed her. 

Someone seized her by the throat, lifting her off her feet. Choking on the gasp that somehow escaped her constricted throat, she felt her fingers scrape uselessly along arms covered in metal. 

Nearly paralyzed from the shock, she gazed down to see a jet-black helmet with a narrow slit for the eyes. The man holding her was impossibly tall, nearly as tall as Fierce, and heavily muscled. The armor he wore was pitch black and covered him head to toe; on his back was a greatsword, equally black and vicious looking. 

Under the helmet, where she should have seen a man’s face, she saw darkness. The thing holding her was not human. 

Its fingers clenched, bruising her throat and causing her to make a sputtering noise as she struggled to draw breath. The creature gave no reaction. 

He gave off an aura of sorts, one that seemed to slither about and around him like a veil of smoke, invisible but potent. It only intensified the horrified shivers lacing their way up her spine, knowing that whatever this monster was, it was an unearthly and soulless being. 

Dark spots appeared in her vision as the monster tightened its hold. She felt her eyes start to slip closed before a sharp female voice cut in. 

“Stop. We need her alive.” 

Amazingly, the creature dropped her. She landed painfully on her hands and knees in the pile of broken glass, giving herself numerous cuts in the process. Sienna instantly grabbed for her throat, massaging it where it was sore. The creature gazed down at her with its nonexistent eyes, unmoved. Quickly, she scrambled away across the floor. 

“Where is he?” demanded that rough female voice again. 

Sienna glanced up, her eyes widening in shock when she saw who the voice belonged to. 

**~oOo~ **

_Goron City_

“We’ve hit a problem, Elder.” 

Darunia rubbed his stone jaw with one massive hand. “Hmm.” 

He stood at the mouth of a tunnel in the process of being dug out. It had become necessary to expand the city’s tunnel complex. Good rocks were becoming increasingly harder to find, and his people needed to eat. The corrupted energy veiling Hyrule had even sunk into her mountains, poisoning the rock and causing cave-ins to happen more frequently than usual. 

He grunted in annoyance. He almost dared Ganondorf to show his face here again. From the corner of his eye, he saw Link approaching, a somewhat troubled expression on his face. Darunia addressed the Goron supervising the tunnel excavation. 

“A bit wider, Jorga. I want that ceiling reinforced. We can’t afford another cave-in.” 

The female Goron in charge bowed her head. “Of course, Elder.” She turned to convey his orders to the other Gorons waiting patiently to continue their work. 

Turning to the young man at his elbow, Darunia adopted as much of a smile as he could under the circumstances. “Brother! I see you’re feeling better. The hot springs work wonders.” 

Link stretched his arms above his head, demonstrating. “They certainly do,” he agreed with a grin. 

Darunia eyed him shrewdly. “There’s something on your mind.” 

The youth scratched the back of his neck idly. “There is…” 

Darunia chuckled. “Well, spit it out, Brother. You have my ear.” 

Link’s blue eyes met Darunia’s warm brown ones. “Darunia, who are the Sky People?” 

The question caught him so off guard Darunia nearly laughed outright. Instead, he clapped Link on the shoulder—which made him wince—and chuckled lightly. 

“The Sky People? You don’t know, Brother?” 

Confused, Link just shrugged. The Goron Elder laughed again. “The Sky People are your ancestors, Brother. They were the first of the Hylians.” 

From Link’s expression, this surprised him. The Goron shook his head in disbelief, leading the young man back into the city. Descending a level, Darunia lumbered down a seldom-used pathway. The temperature rose a degree or two as they walked along. 

Eventually, they reached a dark, hollowed out cavern. Link reached for his lantern. At Darunia’s instruction, he lit the many torches lining the walls, allowing him to see the walls and ceiling. 

“Link, welcome to one of the oldest tunnels in the city. We call it ‘the tunnel of ages’.” 

Adorning the cave walls and ceiling were paintings; somewhat crude drawings made by hand. They were obviously ancient and varied greatly. Most depicted gorons, but there were some that featured Hylians and other creatures of Hyrule. Black lines separated some paintings from others, and Darunia told Link these represented the beginnings and ends of stories from the past. Pointing out a few well-known stories about the gorons, he settled back to watch Link. The tiny blue fairy that was Link’s companion flew around the ceiling, as curious as Link. 

“The Sky People were the first Hylians?” he asked after a few moments of studying the cave’s painted walls, turning to him for clarification. 

“We Gorons are an ancient race, Link. We pre-date even the Hylians.” Darunia paused to chuckle. “Of course, it’s important to understand that your people existed both before the Demon War and after.” 

“The Demon War?” 

Darunia was surprised. “You don’t know? I thought every Hylian knew of the story of the Goddess Hylia and the great Demon War.” 

Navi flew down and landed on Link’s shoulder. “Link was never told the story. But I have heard the story many times, Elder Darunia.” 

Darunia sat and rested against the cave’s wall, waving a hand to tell the fairy to continue. Next to him was a stout drum that Darunia pulled in front of him. Link sat cross-legged across from Darunia.The goron began to pound on the drum, a steady and hypnotic song like a heartbeat. 

"The Bolero of Fire," he explained to Link with a wink. "For the story." 

Navi flew to the center of the room, folding her arms over her chest and taking a breath before beginning her story. 

_Many thousands of years after the Old World died, and the ancient gods had created the earth from its ashes, the land now known as Hyrule was covered in Darkness. _

_Time moved no more, and the land was devoid of life. Sent by the Old World gods, three golden goddesses descended upon the chaos—Din, the goddess of power, Nayru, the goddess of wisdom, and Farore, the goddess of courage. Together, the blessed sisters breathed life back into the world. _

_Din bestowed her strength upon the earth, making it fertile, hardy, and sustaining. _

_Nayru poured out her wisdom, granting the world the spirit of order. _

_Farore shed light into the darkness, her rich soul creating all life forms and all races of Hyrule. _

_The three golden goddesses then departed for the heavens, the home of the gods. At the place where the goddesses left the earth, the golden relic known as the Triforce could be found. To protect this relic and watch over the peoples of Hyrule, the goddesses appointed the goddess Hylia. _

_For a thousand years, Hylia and her subjects enjoyed an era of prosperity. The goddess dutifully watched over her people, protecting them from the threat of the Darkness, should it ever return. _

_However, nothing could keep the spirits of evil at bay forever, and demons soon crawled out from the shadows to wreak havoc upon the world of light. _

_The ensuing battles were unmatched in ferocity, and many lives were lost. The demons had come to take for themselves the golden power protected by the goddess. The power of the Triforce was without equal, and held the ability to grant the wish of its holder. _

_Though the goddess Hylia commanded many armies, who fought valiantly at her side, they were not able to defeat the king of the demons. With the fires of destruction threatening to consume the earth, the goddess Hylia gathered the survivors on an island and sent it skyward, far from the reach of the demon armies. _

_The survivors were her own people, who came to be known as the Hylians. To them she entrusted the Triforce, and they swore to protect it from the demon king who so desired its power. _

_On the surface, the goddess and one other remained behind. The goddess herself had chosen a hero among her people, a man of pure heart and soul who could wield the divine blade of Hylia. _

_This Hero met the Demon King in a battle that it is said was waged for days without end. At last, the Hero defeated his enemy, sealing him deep beneath the surface once again. With peace restored to the surface and the Hylians safe in the skies, all seemed well. _

_However, the Hero had fallen, gravely injured from his fight with the Demon King. To Hylia, he promised his eternal allegiance, swearing to forever protect the land he had given his life to save. _

_As death drew nearer, he pledged to fight at her side for as long as his spirit lived on. _

_Hylia’s tears fell, mourning the loss of her Hero. The goddess chose then to shed her divinity and become mortal. _

_She vowed that his pure spirit would live on through the ages, and that the two of them would be reborn should ever the land of Hylia fall under the shadow of Darkness again. _

“…It wasn’t until many years later that the Hylians living in the heavens returned to the surface world. It was they who established the Kingdom of Hyrule. It is said that the bloodline of the Royal Family contains the blood of the goddess Hylia reincarnated,” Navi finished, hovering in between Link and Darunia. 

Darunia nodded, playing the drum steadily. “We Gorons have passed down this story for centuries. It was our ancestors who fought alongside Hylia, and it was a goron who met the first reincarnation of the Hero when he returned to the surface.” 

He pointed a large finger at a painting on the wall. It depicted a goron, a pack on his back and a map in his hand, next to a Hylian youth. 

Link studied the drawing more closely, unable to ignore what he knew was plain to the other two. The Hylian figure wore a green uniform and carried a sword on his back that shone with divine light. _The reincarnation of the Hero…_

Darunia spoke his thoughts aloud. “The first Hylian to return was none other than the Hero of old reborn. He appeared because this land was once again in danger from the same demon horde that attacked it all those years ago.” 

Link didn’t reply; his were eyes fixed on the hazy face of the Hero, both unknown to him and all-too-familiar. 

Darunia shifted, coming to kneel next to Link. “Now you know why you were chosen, Brother. Ganondorf brought darkness back to Hyrule. The land of the goddess Hylia has need of its hero, and so you have come.” 

Hours later, Link stood in the room provided to him by the gorons, securing his pack before slinging it over his shoulder. Goron City had been his home in the weeks of his recovery, but it was time to leave. 

“Link?” Navi called from outside before flying through the hole in the wall that served as a door. 

He looked up as he was slipping the Master Sword into its sheath. “Yeah?” 

“Are you okay? You seemed a little…distant,” she said warily. “When you left the tunnel of ages…” 

“I’m fine, Navi,” he said, his tone clipped. 

She fluttered anxiously, watching as he readied himself to leave. His injuries had healed enough that traveling was no longer dangerous, and she knew Link planned to head to Zora’s Domain straightaway. 

She also knew him well enough by now to know the revelations in the old tunnel had affected him. In what way, she was not yet sure. 

He spoke, surprising her. “There’s so much I don’t know, Navi.” Unsure what he meant, she waited until he continued. “There are so many things that I feel, and I can’t explain them…like this,” Link said, drawing the Master Sword from its place. “The more I wield it, the more I think it’s…” He stopped and glanced at her, shaking his head. “But that’s impossible.” 

“What is?” she asked, cocking her head. 

Link hesitated. “Sometimes it feels as if the sword is…alive, somehow,” he explained. 

Navi flew closer, inspecting the blade’s shining surface. “You’ve formed a connection to it. That’s not uncommon, Link.” 

“It’s more than that,” he insisted. “It’s like it can read my mind, and acts on an impulse before I finish the thought, or it shows me what to do if I freeze up.” 

Navi gazed up at him, uncertain what to make of what he was telling her. “The Master Sword is an ancient blade, Link. It was forged when the magic permeating the land was much stronger. Perhaps it is the magical properties of the blade you are tapping into. It’s just another confirmation that you are indeed the Hero of Time.” 

Link studied the reflection of his face in the metal’s surface. Holding it so close, it only displayed a fragment of his features. One striking blue iris stared back at him. 

“I remember when you first left the forest and looked upon the land of Hyrule for the first time,” Navi was saying. “The Hero fought to protect his home; the land was very dear to his heart, as I know it is to you. From the moment you first saw the world outside the forest, you felt the connection.” 

Navi was rattling off more reasons why it was obvious that Link was the Hero’s reincarnation when a thought struck him. 

“Navi,” he interrupted her spiel. “You said the goddess Hylia became mortal, and that her descendants became the Royal Family of Hyrule?” 

Navi tucked her hair behind her ears. “Well, yes—“ 

“You said like the hero, she is reborn whenever Hyrule is in danger…” 

“Yes…” 

“So, that means—“ 

“Am I interrupting?” Sheik’s muffled voice cut over Link’s hurried voice. 

Link turned abruptly. “Er, no. Not at all.” 

Sheik eyed him. “I apologize. But I have unpleasant news.” 

“What is it?” Navi asked. 

Sheik turned his back to them, casting a glance at Link over his shoulder. “Zora’s Domain has been attacked.” 

**~oOo~ **

_West Clocktown_

Storefronts and town houses whipped by, their colors and textures blending together. As he ran, he kept to one side to avoid any passersby or shop owners loitering in the road. He started up the steady incline on West Clocktown Road, panting as he increased his pace and pushed his body. 

His morning run was something he’d come to look forward to. It released some of the tension and kept his strength up. Usually after his run he’d cool off before training, but today he knew Sienna was waiting. 

From the height of the sun in the sky, she might be up by now. Dark sped up, thinking she might be worried if she woke up and he was gone. 

At the top of the hill, he slowed to catch his breath. He stopped outside the window of a jewelry shop, and found his eye drawn to some of the rings on display. 

Wedding rings weren’t uncommon; married couples exchanged simple, decorative bands on their wedding day. Engagement rings, however, like the ones on display, were usually only given by nobles to other nobles. These particular ones were expensive. The jewelry store carried a lot of high-ticket items. 

“Looking for anything in particular?” a feminine voice asked, her tone teasing. 

Dark spun to see the young woman watching the shop. Her hair was long, blonde and straight, and her eyes were onyx black. Her mouth curving into a seductive smile, she cast a glance at his half-naked body. 

“We have something for everyone here,” she told him, gesturing to the window display. 

“I’m not a nobleman,” he said dismissively, running a hand over the back of his neck to wipe off the sweat from the exertion. 

She giggled. “Could’ve fooled me with those looks,” she said playfully, her black eyes tracing his features. 

Dark resisted the urge to laugh. He had vaguely aristocratic features, sure, but no one had ever mistaken him for one. 

“I was just looking,” he said, turning to leave. 

She placed a hand on his arm, her fingernails scratching lightly as he moved away. He had to fight his instinct to wrench away at the touch of a stranger. He gritted his teeth, looking back at her. 

“Are you busy tonight?” she asked, smiling at him again. 

“I have a girlfriend.” 

The words felt foreign rolling off his tongue. Was Sienna his girlfriend? They hadn’t had a chance to talk as of yet. 

“Too bad,” the woman said, her lips pouting. 

Dark slipped his arm from her grip, breaking into a jog once again. She waved coyly as he headed up the road. A few turns later, he was on Greywood Road. His eyes turned to the house, and he stopped. Something was wrong. 

He slid up to the front door, which lay in slivers in the front entrance. Cautiously he peered inside, only to be greeted by the creaking sound of armor, his only warning before a massive sword sliced through the air. 

He jumped back, narrowly avoiding decapitation. The Darknut smashed its way through what remained of his front door, its glowing red eyes glaring at him beneath the full helmet. 

“Not bad,” a woman’s voice commented, causing Dark to spin in surprise. 

He was surrounded by Gerudo warriors. He’d never actually met any, but he’d heard of them. During the siege of Castle Town, he’d glimpsed a few on horseback. The one who’d spoken was clearly the leader of the group, toting a wickedly curved blade on her shoulder—the Gerudos’ signature weapon. 

“For a Hylian,” she added, flashing her teeth menacingly. 

Dark smirked, wishing he had his sword. He would’ve relished the chance to test his skills against a Gerudo. “Surprised? It won’t be the last time.” 

She smiled, placing one hand on her hip. The Gerudo all dressed quite similar. Most of them wore lightweight garments that bared their arms, shoulders and midriffs—clothing that was meant for the hot desert climate that was their home. They wore very little armor and at most three weapons each. Perhaps two of those curved blades and a spear. Some bore a bow and quiver upon their backs. 

Like most Gerudo, her hair was a deep shade of red, and tied into a loose knot at the back of her head. The others with her wore theirs in a similar fashion, and sported masks that covered them from under their noses to past their chins. 

It was difficult to read their expressions, since they kept their eyes cold and neutral. Everything about these women spoke of their years of discipline, patience, and skill. Their abilities were legendary; they were the measuring stick for any serious swordsman. 

Dark knew that unarmed as he was, he stood no chance. Still, he projected an air of confidence. He spread his feet and planted them, standing tall. 

“Why are you here?” he asked, trying to buy for more time while he concocted a plan. 

The leader, dressed in blue to indicate her higher status, spoke. “We’ve come for you.” 

Her tone was uncompromising. 

“Don’t be so sure of your success,” he taunted. 

The Gerudo woman laughed, lifting her weapon and crouching into a battle position. Instinctively, he mimicked her pose, even though he was weaponless and bare-chested. She didn’t move, but her lips curled the slightest bit. His eyes narrowed. 

The Darknut moved with a swiftness that belied its appearance. Dark ducked, sliding underneath the creature’s reach. Thinking quickly, he seized the secondary sword strapped to the Darknut’s back, using it to knock off one of its protective shoulder pads. It didn’t react, other than to spin and try to separate his head from his body again. 

The Gerudo leader let him strike the Darknut a few more times, cleaving off more pieces of its armor, before she held up a hand and commanded the thing to stop. It obeyed, which unnerved him. 

Dark hadn’t realized that the power of the Gerudo had grown enough that they could even control dark creatures as strong as Darknuts. It didn’t bode well. 

“Enough nonsense,” the leader muttered. She pointed her weapon at him. “You’re coming with us.” 

“Not likely,” he growled, brandishing his stolen Darknut sword. 

“Bring her,” the woman ordered one of her guards. 

A pair of guards slipped into the house, emerging with a bound and gagged Sienna. Dark’s hopes that she hadn’t been home when the Gerudo had arrived sunk. She shot him a look of pure terror. Her eyes pleaded with him to explain what was happening. 

“Release her!” he roared at the Gerudo leader, charging at her. 

She parried his blow, meeting his gaze as their blades locked. “Now why would we do that when keeping her guarantees you’ll be a good boy and cooperate?” she grinned at him, disarming him with a sharp twist of the curved blade. Dark was knocked backwards with a swift kick to his chest. 

Dark grunted as he hit the unforgiving street hard; it was no use fighting when the odds were so against him. Gerudo guards quickly seized him, binding his hands and hauling him back on his feet. The Darknut knelt to retrieve the sword he’d stolen, its phantom eyes giving him what he assumed was a dirty look. 

“Good,” the Gerudo captain said, eyeing his bonds somewhat skeptically. “Keep a close eye on him. Let’s go.” 

“Yes, Captain Imara,” one of the guards replied, wrapping a hand around Dark’s arm. 

Sienna shouted something at him, but the gag muffled her voice. Dark looked over his shoulder at her, willing her to hear his reassuring thoughts. The panic on her face was the last thing he saw before the Darknut’s fist came down on his head, knocking him unconscious. 

**~oOo~**

_Hyrule Castle_

For perhaps the thousandth time, Ganondorf studied the mark on the back of his hand. It glowed faintly, emitting only a soft aura of light. 

The Triforce of Power pulsed at a steady rate like a second heartbeat, fueling him in a way the organ in his chest never could. It was the Triforce of Power that kept him alive now, and it was Power that fed his ambition. 

He looked over the land of Hyrule, a sense of satisfaction sweeping over him. A place like Hyrule needed a strong leader, and the gods had deemed him worthy. 

He was by no means ignorant of the attitude the Hylians held towards him—they thought him a tyrant. They were fools. The Triforce of Power had chosen him, and it had used him as a vessel to bring about the changes this world so desperately needed. 

In all the ways Hyrule had declined, Ganondorf would see that it rose again, rising even above its former glory. 

His fingers curled around the edges of the throne’s arms; indeed, he would remake the world into what it should be. He belonged at the pinnacle of power. The superior Gerudo race belonged here. For too long they had been exiles, wasting away in a desert. The corner of his lip twitched. But the desert had made them powerful, too. It had made them ready for this. 

He stood, his long cape flourishing behind him. The throne room he stood in was the only room he had ordered to be untouched by the invasion. Gerudo forces had pillaged the rest of the castle, taking with them any valuables and destroying any artifacts they could find of Hyrule’s former reign. 

But this place they had left alone. The magnificent vaulted ceiling with its pristine stone archways, the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, the shrine depicting the goddesses surrounding the Triforce, and the throne itself, were his. This room truly reflected power and superiority. 

Ganondorf paused at a window on the right, gazing out at the horizon. He could barely see it, but the dusty, red-brown cliffs that marked the beginning of the Gerudo valley could be spotted. He had been debating for some time whether to return. 

The Triforce of Power had been immensely useful, but its power was in some ways…limited. It sounded ridiculous to him—a limit to power? If he truly wanted everything the land of Hyrule could give him, he needed the remaining two pieces. Ganondorf knew without doubt that the answer of how to do so lay in the sands. 

The people he ruled over might have thought him a simple barbarian, but Ganondorf was no fool. He had been educated by the wisest of the Gerudo, and been blessed with centuries of ancient knowledge passed down through the generations. 

Originally having been scholars and students of magic, not warriors, the Gerudo preserved their vast knowledge of the world, ever increasing their stores of recorded history. To keep these treasures safe, they had built a temple in the desert, keeping it safe from outsiders. 

In his youth, Ganondorf had spent many hours there, studying the ancient texts and meditating, preparing himself for the day when he would become King of the Gerudo and take what rightfully belonged to his people. His hatred of the Hylians stemmed from thousands of years’ worth of history. Even the Sheikah were his enemies. 

The first of them had grown apart from the Gerudo, betraying them when they discovered that the power of the gods had returned to Hyrule. They tried to steal the power, and so the Hylians had exiled the Gerudo to the desert in distrust, forcing them to leave their true homeland. 

Ganondorf’s lips curled into a smirk. Hyrule was once again theirs. The traitorous Sheikah had been all but wiped out—he’d seen to that during the civil war. And now the Hylians remained under his boot and under his control. 

It was in the desert temple that Ganondorf had confirmed the rumors of the power of the gods, thought to still be hidden somewhere in Hyrule. He hoped it would once again bestow upon him the knowledge of how to seize the power of the other two pieces. 

_The only question is where are those pieces to be found?_ He wondered, laying a hand on the cool surface of the glass. His eyes raked over the land of Hyrule all the way to the horizon, as if he would be able to spot them from this distance. His search was becoming more than frustrating. He needed to find them, and soon. _Where are you?_ He seethed. 

Ganondorf closed his eyes, resting his forehead against his raised arm. His eyes opening, he stared intently at what remained of Castle Town’s gates. _Come out and play, children. I’m ready for you. _


	28. The Dark Path Ahead

It was unnatural. 

Frozen eyes staring, the Zora patriarch’s condition gave him the chills. Link stared up at King Zora, sitting regally atop his throne, encased in red ice. 

He’d tried many times to break it or melt it, but nothing had worked. Navi had deduced that only magic could melt what appeared to be magical ice. Link didn’t have anything powerful enough to do the trick. Even the Din’s Fire spell had failed. 

At last he turned away from the sight, feeling frustration well up inside him. Navi shivered inside his hat, but said nothing; she didn’t like the cold. 

Link followed the winding rock ledge down into Zora’s Domain, casting a sad look at the waterfall, frozen by natural ice, which poured into a large pool at its base. It was under this thick sheet of ice that the Zora were held prisoner. Although it was not the magical red ice, it was unyielding, too thick to penetrate. 

He felt a sense of unease, staring down at their petrified forms. Their arms were outstretched, fins extended as if they were swimming. The expressions on their faces were blank, their eyes glassy. Navi had assured him they were all still alive beneath the ice, but she wasn’t sure for how long. 

Sheik had been right—he did hate this situation. He could do nothing to help them, and the one person who might have answers for him was missing. 

Princess Ruto was not among those trapped in the ice. Sheik had mentioned that the curse on the Zora probably came from the Water Temple, their sacred ground. The location, however, was unknown even to the Sheikah youth. 

Link rubbed his temples in exasperation. Ganondorf’s influence was spreading too far, too quickly. If he couldn’t break this latest curse, he would never free the Zora. 

**~oOo~**

West of Clocktown, the road to Hyrule crept steadily northward, boasting the scenery of Snowhead’s peaks. It was the main passage between Hyrule and Termina. 

Dark and Sienna found themselves on one of the less traveled roads that passed further south, near the top of the Great Bay. Their captors intended to skirt the main roads and travel through the forest, and then north towards Castle Town. 

As they edged towards the south, the terrain became flatter. In the distance Dark could see the blue circle of water, smell the saltiness in the air. He stopped a beat to take in the view, having never seen the bay before. The moment was short-lived. 

“Get moving,” the Gerudo captain ordered, prodding him in the back with the butt end of her spear. 

With his hands bound, all Dark could do was stumble. His knees hit the ground sharply. He sprung up and rounded on the Gerudo, Imara. With a mocking laugh, she easily knocked him back onto the ground. 

“Dark!” Sienna cried, fighting her own guards to come to his aid. 

“Shut up!” her guard ordered while two more hauled Dark back on his feet. They circled the pair rather than flanking them now, keeping them locked within a tight circle. 

Imara moved to his side. “At least you’re not boring,” she remarked, shooting a sly grin in his direction. “It’s no fun when we don’t rough up the prisoners a bit.” 

The other Gerudo laughed, and Sienna gave him a worried glance, but Dark resolutely ignored them, staring straight ahead. 

“Such a shame,” the woman continued, hazel eyes glinting as she moved so close to his side that she brushed his shoulder. “Lord Ganondorf already has plans for you. It’s too bad. We could always use a good servant. They’re so hard to come by these days.” 

The other guards burst into peals of laughter and Dark nearly ground his teeth into powder in annoyance. Imara stuck her boot in front of his feet, stopping him. He halted, but he refused to look her in the eyes. She grinned, amused, and seized his chin between long, sun-darkened fingers. Her nails bit into his jaw and she forced his face upwards. She was a tall woman, standing head to head with him. 

“Truly a shame,” she told him. 

The other guards continued to laugh as they passed by them. He still didn’t raise his eyes to meet her gaze. She grunted. 

“Keep up that stubborn attitude, boy. It’s hard to find, especially in you Hylians.” He looked up, and she smiled triumphantly. “Normally, I find Hylian men rather dull and weak,” she remarked as her eyes studied his face. 

Dark didn’t answer her. He prayed to the goddesses that Imara could feel the hatred he felt searing the skin of her face as he glared at her. She looked much the same as any Gerudo woman: sharp, proud features, light hazel eyes that bordered on gold or amber, fiery red hair. They were exotically handsome, with their noses just a tad too long for their faces, and lips that were broad and almost masculine. But their eyes struck like daggers, and their skin was a dusky bronze that shone like the desert sand. 

“Perhaps you have some Gerudo blood in you, hmm?” she asked. It wasn’t an attempt to rile him; she sounded almost curious. Her hawk-like eyes were skittering over his face. 

He fought the urge to recoil from both from the woman and what she was implying. His features were reminiscent of Hyrule’s nobility, given by his mother’s side. There was a touch of his father, in the hair color and a skin tone that was a few shades darker than most Hylians. He had no idea who his father’s ancestors were. For all he knew, they might well have come from one of the desert tribes that frequently mingled with the Gerudo. 

Imara smirked at his obvious displeasure at the comment. “Don’t look so affronted,” she said. “Your eyes are those of a Gerudo. You should be proud to have a little of our blood in you.” 

“Proud?” he asked, speaking for the first time. She arched a brow, clearly amused. “I should be proud to have the blood of killers, thieves and tyrants in me?” 

Before he could blink, her fist had shot out, striking his temple. Her leg snaked between both of his and knocked him flat on his back. Kneeling next to him, she lowered her head until her lips were right next to his ear. 

“Don’t speak of things you know _nothing_ about,” she whispered, her tone chilling. “You know nothing of our people. You may hate Lord Ganondorf, but he is the finest of our warriors, and commands respect. You have warriors’ blood in you, boy. Be proud of _that_, if nothing else.” 

Her voice never wavered above a hush. She straightened, grabbing hold of his forearm and pulling him up beside her. One hand still holding him, she dragged him along to rejoin the others, who were busy mounting their horses. 

Imara didn’t look at Dark again, and the expression on her face didn’t invite further comment. 

**~oOo~ **

_Hyrule Field_

Before him the trees were starting to thin out, letting in light—not that there was much obstruction from the trees to begin with. Instead of turning back and taking Death Mountain Trail, Link had cut through the Lost Woods, taking the shortcut from Zora’s Domain. 

He’d hoped to find a clue of where to go next, so he’d sought out the fairy’s fountain he knew of in the ancient forest. When he'd arrived, though, the fountain had been empty. The red fairies, that had resided there, ready to lend their wisdom and aid, were absent. Further frustrated by his situation, Link had taken Navi’s advice and changed course towards Hyrule Field. He would return to Kakariko for now. 

At last the trees on the perimeter of the woods fell behind him, and he stepped out onto the vast plain that dominated central Hyrule. What he saw caused a pit of unease to drop in his stomach, though he’d seen it before. 

Hyrule Field was a mere shadow of what it had once been. The lush plain with gently sloping valleys and hills had dried up, leaving infertile ground and browning, dead grass. The roads were no longer maintained as they had been; weeds and rocks made passage inconvenient to the few who still used them. Those who did tread carefully, as monster attacks weren’t uncommon. 

Perhaps it didn’t matter. Link and Navi hadn’t seen another soul in over two days. 

There were a handful of stray villages between Zora’s River and Kakariko, but they were all empty, deserted by their inhabitants. Some had been overrun by monsters, others had been razed to the ground by the Gerudo and their desert raiders. 

To add to the loneliness and the desolateness, it was hot. Unbearably hot. The sun mercilessly baked the earth when it was free of the habitual cloud cover that had plagued Hyrule as of late. 

They were still about a day from Kakariko, and Link had run out of water. It seemed ridiculous, being that the river was right there. But it had dried up; the pair found themselves walking in the river bed itself to avoid the heat. 

Link stopped under the shade of a tree, though it didn’t provide very much—its leaves had withered away. There was a small pool of water in the dirt that hadn’t managed to evaporate. 

Link knelt and cupped his hands, gulping down what he could. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it would have to suffice. 

Navi shot him a concerned look. “You can’t go on like this much longer, Link.” 

“I know,” he responded without looking at her. 

He shoveled the wet dirt aside, hoping there was more moisture to be found in the sandy river bottom. He felt desperate, but there wasn’t much else to do. It felt as if the gods were taunting him. 

“Kakariko isn’t far away,” he continued. “We can make it.” 

“Not before nightfall,” Navi argued. “There’s a village that’s closer, maybe they’ll have some water.” 

“I can’t expect them to hand over their water,” Link countered. “They most likely don’t have enough for themselves.” 

“If you perish of dehydration they won’t have anything ever again,” Navi snapped, frustration darkening her mood. “Hyrule can’t afford to lose you. I promised the Great Deku Tree I would watch out for you, now come on.” 

Link sighed and followed the tiny blue fairy up the river bank. The nearest village turned out to be the small hamlet of Ezoren. 

Although it was deserted, Link’s search for water was successful; he found two full canteens of spring water in a secret storage space of an abandoned home. Link seized one, taking a deep swig before storing the remainder in his pack. If they camped here for the night, they would have plenty to get them to Kakariko. 

“What was that!?” Navi said, her wings fluttering anxiously. 

Link’s boot halted before it crossed the threshold of a village house. His keen ears picked up the sounds of stomping. Whoever was making their way into Ezoren was big, and there was more than one. 

He ducked inside, crouching under a window in order to listen to whoever was outside. 

For a long while there was just the sound of heavy footfalls. Metal clinked; they were probably wearing armor and weapons. Link guessed they must be one of Ganondorf’s guard patrols. 

They might’ve been a group of vigilantes—there were many Hylian soldiers who had escaped the castle and banded together—but Link couldn’t take that chance. The newcomers halted a few feet from the house, and the closest one made a sound that could only be described as a snort. 

Daringly, Link raised his head to peer out the broken window. What he saw made his blood run cold. 

A Moblin stood mere feet away from him. It resembled a giant boar of sorts, with the legs and face of a pig but the torso of a man. The beast was heavily muscled and reinforced with a thick hide. Sharply curved tusks protruded from its mouth, with its nose raised high in the air like it was...scenting. 

Link panicked; he bolted for the door a second before the moblin locked onto his human scent. With an earth-shattering roar, the beast swung the massive club it held at the house, shattering the building into firewood. 

Covering his head to protect him from flying debris, Link ran flat out, not looking back. 

Moblins weren’t invincible, but there were two of them and fighting them face-to-face was suicide. His best bet was to fire an arrow into their sensitive eyes, striking them dead with a shot to the brain. That would be an incredible feat, however, with two of them charging him. 

“Link! Over there!” Navi shouted, trying to keep up with him. The moblins were hot on their trail, their snorts and snarls piercing his ears. 

He rushed towards the trees his fairy had pointed out. He couldn’t outrun them—he’d have to lose them in the trees and hope for the chance to take them by surprise. 

Link’s hairs stood on end as he felt the moblin’s hot breath on his back, its hooves tearing up the dirt. Clumps of earth hit him like shrapnel, heightening his panic. He pushed his body into a dead sprint, amazed at the speed he could accomplish. 

Fingers outstretched, Link grazed the rough bark of a tree and captured a low-hanging branch. The moblin thundered past him as he pulled himself up, muscles straining, and clambered into the tree. The second moblin charged the same way as its companion; they hadn’t realized where their prey had escaped to. 

“Do you think they’ve forgotten about you?” Navi asked, her voice hushed. 

The moblins scented the air again, snuffling and snorting. They swiftly relocated him. Link cursed as the giant beasts hurled themselves at the tree, shaking its roots in the earth. 

Their tusks viciously tore at the tree’s trunk, and Link knew it was only a matter of time before they ripped into his own flesh. Making a drastic decision, Link jumped, landing hard in the dirt and rolling to avoid the swing of a moblin’s spear. 

If there was one advantage Link had, it was knowledge of the forest. He sprinted, easily dodging obstacles that the moblins struggled with. As a child this had been play, and he’d quickly tired. But now his energy was fueled by survival, and his adult’s body sustained his need to keep running. 

He leapt over rocks and fallen trees, dodging pitfalls and swinging branches without disturbing so much as a resting butterfly. The moblins crashed through the woods like two wrecking balls after him, howling with a ferocity that set his teeth on edge. 

He tried not to think about what would happen if they caught up to him—Link wasn’t sure if moblins actually ate humans or not. He wasn’t about to find out. 

Navi suddenly piped up. “Look, Link! There’s a cave over there!” 

He didn’t slow to see how far behind his pursuers were. Link slid down an incline, diving underneath some dense underbrush. Landing on his belly, he crawled. The cave’s mouth was so close. Overhead, the moblins were getting closer, their rampaging growing louder. 

Cool air enveloped him and shade welcomed him as he slid into the crevice on his stomach. It was cramped. It was less a cave and more the space under several boulders. But it was safe. 

His heart slowed only several minutes after the sounds of the beasts faded away. Huddled under the rock, Link closed his eyes and slowed his breathing. By the time he dared look outside, night had fallen. 

Knowing it was better to risk running into more moblins than freeze to death, Link eventually went out to collect firewood. After he’d gathered a decent pile, he made a fire just outside his hiding place, sitting with his back against the rocks and warming his hands. 

Navi rested on his shoulder, her head lying against his cheek. Having mustered up an appetite, Link reached for his pack. Jolted awake by the movements of his jaw as he chewed, Navi flew down to sit on his knee. 

“That was a close one,” she commented, crossing her legs. 

Link grunted, swallowing. “I should’ve been more careful, I guess.” 

Navi shook her small head. “I was careless. I should’ve noticed their presence.” 

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Link replied. “We had other things on our minds.” Navi sighed, and Link noticed the dejected look on her face. “What is it?” 

The blue fairy looked up at him. “Link, I feel awful. I’m supposed to help you train, but…I just don’t know that much about swordsmanship.” 

“Navi,” he said, giving her a sad look. “You’re not a bad teacher. I just need more practice.” 

She shook her head. “No, you need an experienced teacher. Someone who knows what they’re doing.” 

“Where am I going to find one?” he asked, shrugging. “I have to find a way to help the Zorans. I don’t have time to find someone to train me.” 

“You must!” Navi insisted, flying up so she was level with his nose. “Link, Ganondorf has many monsters at his disposal, and when you finally face him, you’ll need to know what you’re doing. Those moblins are just the beginning. If you can’t defend yourself…” she trailed off, not wanting to finish. 

Link reached up to catch her as she started to float back down again. She curled up in the palm of his hand, avoiding his gaze. Tiny specks of water formed in the corners of her eyes, and she impatiently brushed them away. 

“I’ll look for someone,” he promised. “And I’ll double my training.” 

Navi laughed, brushing a tiny hand along the bridge of his nose. “You’re a good friend, Link, even if you don’t mean that. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

“Find another forest kid without a fairy, I suppose,” he joked, grinning. 

Navi’s mood improved, if only slightly. Link finished his dinner and banked the fire, taking care that it wouldn’t extinguish during the night. His hat he laid on the ground inside the cave for Navi to curl up in. 

The fairy quickly fell asleep, exhausted from the long day of traveling. Link stayed up a while longer, sitting by the fire and looking up at the stars. They were easy to see now that the green ceiling was gone. 

They were as bright as ever, the stars. It was a small comfort to him, knowing Ganondorf’s influence had blotted out their light, that the darkness overtaking the world had not yet reached the heavens. Their beauty still shone brightly, giving the people of Hyrule hope. 

The fire crackled as it devoured a dry branch and Link shifted, his eyes momentarily drawn to the flickering flames. 

_“You know what they say about the stars, don’t you?”_

Zelda’s voice drifted to him from the distant past. For him, it seemed like weeks ago. For her, it had been years since they’d last met. 

Not for the first time, he wondered where she was. If he met her now, would she remember him? How different would she be? Link closed his eyes. He remembered a night before all of this they had spent in the castle courtyard, observing the night sky. 

_She laughed and stretched out on the grass. He lay beside her, trying to pick out the constellations she’d told him about. He didn’t see how she could keep track when there weren’t any lines connecting the thousands of little white dots in endless black. _

_“I never get to do this anymore,” she said. “Princesses aren’t allowed to be out so late,” she mimicked her father’s condescending tone. _

_Link laughed. “Nothing wrong with being out late,” he told her. _

_“I agree,” she murmured. “But it’s nice to have someone to do it with.” Link glanced over at Zelda and noticed her cheeks had flushed. “I mean, it’s nice to have a friend. I don’t make them easily,” she said, flustered.Link was surprised. “But you’re a princess. Doesn’t everyone want to be your friend?” _

_Zelda shrugged. “Most of the girls my age don’t care about the things that I do. And the boys are too intimidated to talk to me. They would never do something like this.” _

_“That’s silly,” Link said. “I don’t think you’re intimidating.” _

_Zelda giggled. “What about you? What are your friends from the forest like?” _

_It was Link’s turn to shrug. “Saria was the only one I was ever close to. The other Kokiri think I’m different, I guess.” _

_“You are different.” Link looked over at her. “But in a good way,” she added. Link shrugged again and looked back up at the sky. A moment of silence passed before she spoke again. _

_“You know what they say about the stars, don’t you?” _

_Link looked over at her, curious. He shook his head. _

_“They say that the stars are the tears of the ancient Goddess of Time. When the Old World disappeared, she cried a thousand tears, creating the stars, the beginning of our world…”_

His eyes opened. The fire had died down to embers, and an unseasonably cool wind sliced through him. Within moments, rain began to fall, drenching his hair and clothes. The fire hissed and sizzled as the rain struck it. 

Droplets dripped from the ends of his hair and slid down his nose. He sighed lightly, closing his eyes and enjoying the cold, soothing rain. It was a balm to his overheated, overexerted self. 

Sliding into the cave a few moments later, he lay down with his head next to Navi. Resting his head on his arms as a makeshift pillow, he found himself unable to sleep. 

Link’s mind was plagued with thoughts of her. Worries, anxieties, guesses and possibilities. He knew that saving Hyrule was his primary concern, but he couldn’t help wanting to find her, to make sure she was still alive. 

Justifying it by saying that without its future ruler, Hyrule could not be saved wasn’t a good enough excuse. He didn’t want to find her for Hyrule’s sake. 

He rolled onto his back, staring but not focusing on the rock above him. “Where are you?” he wondered. _Zelda_, he mentally added, not saying her name out loud. 

Link knew he should put her out of his mind. The looming task of defeating Ganondorf rested with him. He had to find a teacher. He had to find the remaining Sages. He had to defeat Ganondorf. He had to save Hyrule. 

Finding the realm’s missing princess simply wasn’t one of the tasks assigned to him. He closed his eyes, a frown creasing his features. He would put her out of his mind—for the time being. 

There was no other option, no other way but forward. He was the Hero of Time, and was duty bound to protect this land. And so, he would do what was needed, and keep walking the unseen path that lay ahead. 

**~oOo~ **

_The Lost Woods_

Hushed. 

Not an absence of sound, but the presence of a thousand whispering voices. They had no source, yet flowed from every direction, indistinct and constant. 

The murmurs of the Lost Woods all seemed to congregate here, in this forgotten grove. This kind of serenity could not be found anyplace else. 

He stood in the centre, facing the ruins that had survived millennia of Hyrule’s history without ever being discovered. Eternity had settled over this abandoned paradise in the woods, lifting it away from the world that continued to move through the river of time. 

It was the oldest place. The most sacred place. It was here that it had all began. 

Fierce had spent many hours here, unmoving, observing his surroundings as they seemed to observe him. Shadowy creatures, hidden in the trees, watched him with curiosity. Birds would land on the stone under his feet, their songs quieted as if they knew the reverence awarded the ruins. With a delicate flap of wings, they would alight, leaving him alone. 

Cracked stone, once polished and purest white, had been eroded by the forest. Grass grew in patches here and there, wildflowers blooming. Behind him was only overgrown rubble—what remained of the stone walls that had once stood here. 

The structure would have been mistaken for a castle, perhaps left over and abandoned from old times. But it had once been a small temple. Most of the arches above were still intact; broken arms trying to reach their partners across the open space where the roof had been. Vines twirled around the beams, as if trying to bind them together once again. The delicate green fingers of the vines reached the end of their beams and fell down towards the floor. 

He finally inched forward, his feet barely grazing over the symbol of the Triforce etched into the floor. Miraculously, the symbol had remained untarnished, glowing softly golden. Fierce continued up shattered steps, dislodging pebbles and dust. 

The second room, larger than the first, felt different. Here was a connection to another time, another place. The pedestal stood quiet and empty, covered in crawling flora. Fierce knelt next to it, observing the shadows on the floor, formed by the sun’s rays striking against the broken arches above. 

It was a beautiful place. A forgotten place. Sealed away by time. 

“Feeling nostalgic?” Female, softly spoken. Somewhat brisk. Familiar. 

He rose to his full height, his pale lips stretching into a smile before he turned. “It would seem so. It is one of the few places it feels truly peaceful in this world, as of late.” 

“Hard to argue with that,” she responded. 

The goddess’s features were finely carved, regal. Almond-shaped eyes sparkled with intelligence and a gentle disapproval as she looked at him. A heart-shaped face sat atop a tall, delicate neck. Her eyes were bluer than he remembered. He sensed her tension and uncertainty. 

Out of character, he held his arms out and opened them wide. Quite unlike her, she rushed into them. 

“I missed you.” The brisk tone was gone, replaced by warmth. 

“I as well,” he replied, one hand stroking the deep blue tresses that trailed over her back. “Your sisters?” he inquired, loosening the embrace somewhat. She didn’t immediately reply, but he felt her apprehension. “Nayru,” he prompted. 

She frowned, fine brows drawing together. “Farore will not come. We have not seen you in years,” she said accusingly. 

He sighed, thumb stroking her cheek affectionately. “I do what I must.” 

“As we all do,” she pointed out. “We’ve been worried. It’s not right for you to spend all this time as a mortal. What good will it bring you?” 

He laughed ruefully. “I fear it hasn’t brought any good, my dear.” 

Nayru crossed her arms over her slender frame. The long, pale blue dress she wore rustled around her bare feet. “You’ve accomplished what you set out to do. He is on the right path. It is up to him, now. Not you.” 

Fierce didn’t reply. His heart was heavy with the guilt of all that had happened. All that he had chosen not to prevent. 

Nayru sighed with frustration. “Why have you spent so long in this place?” She gestured to the arches above them. 

“It’s quiet.” 

“That’s no excuse.” 

Fierce sighed, glancing upwards. “This temple has been here since the Old World. It is a single thread, connecting all the many weaves and tangled webs of Time herself. This place reminds me of the beginning, before all the chaos.” 

Nayru tilted her head, observing him shrewdly. Those eyes narrowed as intuition sparked in them. “Do you really have so many regrets? You’d rather the world return to darkness? When Time itself didn’t exist?” 

Fierce looked back at her. “You misunderstand. I have no regrets,” he corrected her. “None that you’re implying. I simply find it helpful to look to the past when faced with an uncertain future.” 

She was shocked. “Uncertain? But…that’s impossible. How can you not see what is to come? How can you not know what will happen?” 

His frown deepened with worry. “I do not have that answer.” 

Her voice turned anxious. “You must return with me. Immediately.” Her eyes had narrowed again, this time in urgency. 

He held up a hand to calm her. A reassuring smile spread across his face. “This change is not permanent, I don’t think. I cannot return yet.” 

Returning to the other room, he seated himself before the carved image of the Triforce. She watched him with disquiet. 

“I do not agree with this,” she noted. He nodded in reply. 

“Please tell Farore that I wish to see her…and that I will return when this is finished.” 

“Of course.” 

“And Nayru,” he interjected, stopping her as she turned to leave. She waited, but he seemed unsure of his next words. “Din.” 

It was Nayru’s turn to pause. When she couldn’t come up with a response, Fierce let out a sigh. His shoulders fell, and she felt concern. Her hand slid across his shoulder for a moment before she disappeared. Fierce sucked in a steeling breath, concentrating on his position and breathing. 

Darkness was returning to this land, he knew. Forces beyond even the reach of the Evil King threatened to destroy Hyrule. And it was his fault. Because of his actions, darkness would once again cloak the world he had helped bring into light. He felt it approach as surely as if he had foreseen it. Though he was blind to the future, he would heed the warnings of the Goddess of Time. 

For a long time afterward, he felt the comforting warmth of her slender hand touching his shoulder, bringing him a condolence he could not accept.


	29. Blood Ties

_Ezoren Forest_

Cold woke Link. Inside the cramped cave, he sat up as best he could. To his surprise, it was dark outside. 

The reason why became evident when he felt a drop of chilly water fall onto his cheek. Brushing it away with his fingers, he peered outside in time to see the heavens open and rain spill out onto the earth. The ailing trees didn't offer much protection from the elements, and the cave was damp and cold. 

Link shivered. Reaching for his cloak, he was careful not to disturb Navi, who was curled into a ball inside his hat. Fairies hated the cold. To ensure she stayed warm, he used his pack to block an opening in the back of the cave. 

The fire had obviously gone out, but he managed to start a new one just inside the entrance with some spare, dry kindling. Link pulled up his hood and left a few glass bottles lying in the rain to collect the fresh water. 

Staring up at the sky, Link felt the gods must have heard some of his plight. Rain hadn't fallen in weeks, but now it fell in increasingly heavy curtains. Tightening the cloak around his shoulders, Link hurried up the slope of dirt nearby and walked back through the forest. He intended to go back to Ezoren and see what else he could find. Just as he reached the outskirts of the village, however, he heard others approaching. 

He ducked behind a tree, his dark cloak concealing his tell-tale green clothing amongst the dead leaves and bracken. It still saddened him—this time of year it should be green and bright in the forest. 

He managed to pick out several people's voices. It wasn't moblins that approached him now. All the voices were human and female. Watching from his hiding place, Link saw a large group of Gerudo coming up the road. 

"Search the houses." A woman wearing a thick, crimson cloak ordered the others. Her dress was more formal, and her armor was intricately detailed. She must be the leader. 

He scanned the group, mentally tallying the number of guards, horses, and attendants. It was probably one of the guard patrols he'd heard of in Kakariko. The citizens of the village were constantly wary of them. 

The woman in red turned to her subordinates, the only ones who weren't searching the village. She gave them an order he didn't hear, as the rain was coming down harder than ever, and thunder had begun to rumble in the distance. Deciding that there would be nothing left in Ezoren for him, Link moved to sneak back to the cave and rouse Navi. Better they be gone lest the Gerudo searched the woods next. 

"Ahh!" 

A cry caught his attention and he looked up. His eyes widened in shock when he realized the Gerudo had two prisoners with them. The one who had cried out, a young woman, had been struck as punishment, apparently for speaking to her fellow prisoner. In her defence, the other prisoner, a young man, swung for the guard despite his shackles. She easily defended herself, laughing at his efforts. 

Link weighed his options. Navi would surely caution him against such a tactic, but he couldn't leave the two captives to fend for themselves. He wasn't sure where they were being taken, but it couldn't be good. 

Ignoring the inner voice of Navi, Link moved away from the trees, darting stealthily to the nearest house. The prisoners were resting just outside the village, their guards standing nearby. Link was concocting a plan of attack in his head when it happened. 

"It's freezing," Sienna murmured, her small frame shaking as lightning struck overhead. 

"I'm sorry," Dark replied, wishing his hands weren't bound so he could hold her and keep her warm. 

She glanced at him, hot tears streaming down her face. Her expression was earnest, pleading. "Dark, I'm so sorry…" she began. 

"You have nothing to be sorry for." 

"Quiet!" 

The guard who had slapped Sienna rounded on her again, causing her to cry out in pain. Anger seethed in him at seeing what would soon be a bruise mark her cheek. 

"Don't touch her!" he shouted at the Gerudo, who gave him a nasty grin before punching him square in the jaw. 

Knocked back into a tree, he heard a crack. Whether it was the trunk or his skull, he wasn't sure. Her mocking laughter stung his ears, and he felt something inside him change. 

It wasn't imagined, but a physical force that released itself. He sensed it all throughout his body, some_thing_ foreign yet instinctual molded itself to his skeleton like a contamination. Power surged through his bones, giving him free rein. 

He lunged at the woman, his hands outstretched. Shock painted itself onto her face and he felt a grim satisfaction as he disarmed her. Screaming and scratching, his helpless prey fell, his new friend searching out all the vulnerable points on her body. They glowed like bull's-eyes. She struggled to get away, hands clawing at the mud uselessly. He straddled her, trapping her, one hand raised above her face as if to strike. 

"Dark!" 

A woman's shriek, full of terror. The haze cleared when he pinpointed the voice as Sienna's. The unrelenting force he felt dimmed. The electricity he knew to be magic was still there, though he'd never felt anything quite like it. There was the second force there, too. The corruption. Panicked, his eyes locked onto hers. 

He now recognized the look on her face as fear, and he paused to wonder how he had unbound his wrists and managed to disarm a highly skilled warrior with his bare hands. 

"What?" His voice was shaky, rough. 

In his palm was an orb of magical energy, one he'd been prepared to launch straight into the woman's skull. The strange thing was the energy itself—he'd never seen anything like it before. 

It was inky black, the wispy and semi-transparent consistency of smoke. Inside the ball of magic was a secondary source of energy, one that resembled orange lightning. It moved incessantly inside the smoke, sparking then changing direction. He felt as if he held a miniature storm between his fingers. The inner energy crackled and danced, eager to be let out of its prison. 

Dark broke out of his trance as hands pulled him off the terrified woman. The rest of the Gerudo surrounded him. His would-be victim rose to her feet, eyeing him with pure shock. Imara's was the first face he saw. 

Her hazel eyes glittered as she stood nose to nose with him. 

_"How in the name of Din did you do that?"_ she whispered, very softly through clenched teeth. 

Dark stared back at her, as confused and surprised as the rest of them. "I—" 

Interrupted, a whistling arrow almost speared straight through Imara's nose. She leaped back, spinning to face the attacker. Dark took advantage of her distraction. 

He ducked, executing a spin kick that knocked Imara off balance. Fingers closing around the hilt of her curved blade, he pulled it from its sheath and brandished it at those still standing. It was chaos—he was attacked from every angle at every possible opening. 

He quickly found himself circled, but he wasn't giving up. A body collided with his back, not hard enough to knock him prone, but enough to surprise him. He realized this wasn't a Gerudo but the mysterious archer. Back to back, the pair held off the Gerudo's attacks. 

"Who are you!?" Dark asked over the commotion, the thunder roaring on in the distance. 

"Think of me as a friend!" the newcomer replied. 

Dark spun, parrying a blow that would have struck the stranger's blind spot. The other man shouted his thanks as he readjusted his position. From his new vantage point, Dark could see the man wore a dark cloak that concealed all of his features. He handled himself well; he wasn't as experienced with a blade as Dark, but he couldn't help but admire the other man's techniques. With some curiosity, Dark noted that the stranger was, like him, left-handed. 

Despite this, the pair was quickly losing the battle. Coming to the same conclusion, the other man asked him, "Can't you do that little trick you did before?" 

"I can try," Dark muttered, raising a fist and willing the black orb to appear again. Nothing happened. He shook his fist vigorously, hissing curses under his breath. "It's not working!" 

The stranger sheathed his weapon in one fluid movement. "Cover me!" he demanded, moving his own hands in a distinct pattern. 

Dark didn't have time to ask what he was doing before he crouched, pounding a fist into the soggy earth. To Dark's amazement, a dome of fire bloomed from the point of impact and stretched outwards. Even with the storm above, the magic didn't waver. 

Shrieking, the Gerudo were forced to flee or be burned to ashes by the spell. He could hear Imara screeching over the storm, ordering the others to head for Castle Town. 

At a safe distance from the fire, she glanced back at Dark. He shot her a devilish smile, giving her a cheerful wave as she mounted her horse. She grinned back, her eyes narrowing as if to say, _this isn't over._

Link watched with slight amusement as the Gerudos fled. Navi would have his head for being so reckless. 

He straightened from his crouched position, the spell having faded away. The man and woman stood nearby. His fighting partner unbound the girl, pulling her into his arms. She reached her hands up to touch his face, pulling him down for a kiss. Feeling uncomfortable, Link averted his gaze. 

He had to admit, they were a strange couple. Not so much her; she had curly brown hair and sweet green eyes, which weren't uncommon features. But he was somewhat strange-looking. He had jet black hair and darker skin, which was a rarity, and intense blue eyes. He looked to be a few years older than Link, perhaps in his twenties. 

He was also clearly accustomed to battle. The man moved with the sinuous grace of a predator, and his physique was evidence of long hours of practice. A light came on in Link's brain, and he remembered his earlier conversation with Navi. 

The stranger interrupted his thoughts, moving to stand in front of him. He adopted a rigid posture, arms crossed over his chest. He was clearly wary of Link. He was glad for the hood that obscured his face as the stranger's eyes pierced him. 

"You can cast Din's Fire," the dark-haired man remarked, as if it were an everyday occurrence. 

Link laughed nervously. "Yes, I can." 

"Who are you?" he asked warily. "Why did you help us?" 

Link was surprised by the question. "You're Hylians, and they'd captured you. I fight against Ganondorf," he explained, not certain it was wise to reveal his identity. 

The man raised his eyebrows. "By yourself?" he asked skeptically. 

"I've been doing all right so far," Link replied, trying to be funny. 

The man gave him a calculating stare. Link felt awkward being appraised. The stranger was distrustful of him; it was only logical. It seemed that trust was hard to come by these days. Link frowned. He'd missed a lot of Hyrule's transformation. 

"My name is Link," he offered, hoping to create some goodwill. 

The dark-haired stranger regarded him with a hint of surprise. He at last uncrossed his arms, his stance relaxing. "I'm Dark." 

"Sienna," the young woman offered. "Thank you for helping us." She shot a meaningful look at her companion, as if reproaching him for being rude. 

Link smiled with relief. He nodded in acquiescence of her thanks. "Where are you headed?" he inquired. They exchanged a glance, neither one offering an answer. Link tried again, "Kakariko village isn't far from here. It's where I'm headed. I could take you there." 

Dark clicked his tongue. "Not Kakariko, there's probably Gerudo swarming the place. We can't afford to be captured again." 

"I know of someplace safe," Link assured him. "I'm trying to avoid them as well." 

Dark gave him a curious glance. "What do they want you for?" 

"Like I said, I'm fighting against Ganondorf," Link said, dodging an outright answer. 

The stranger narrowed his eyes, but his attention was diverted when his companion shivered in the cold. Stooping low, he gathered the girl to his chest, lifting her off the ground and carrying her towards the village. Link followed silently. 

A small, one-room building was the closest. It was neglected, but at least the roof wasn't leaking. Once inside, Link hunted for firewood. All three of them were soaked and freezing, and Link had spotted a small wood-burning stove in the corner. 

He pulled out a dusty box of chopped logs and started rearranging them in the belly of the stove. Before he could, Dark knelt next to him and started the fire, snapping his fingers together to produce a flame. It quickly caught and soon the fire was roaring, heating up the small space. Link looked over at him. 

"You can use magic?" he asked. 

Magic-users weren't uncommon, but it wasn't a simple task to create fire from nothing. Din's Fire was a powerful spell; it was probably why the stranger had been so shocked that Link could produce it. 

Dark's eyes flitted to Link's face. His deep blue irises seemed almost indigo in the fire's brightness. "Fire is my element." 

Without further comment, Dark rose and ushered the girl, Sienna, onto the nearby bed. It was a small cot, and the only other furniture in the room aside from a lopsided wooden chair. She protested, but he insisted, urging her to lie down and get some rest. Link watched them with curiosity as Dark retrieved an old blanket and threw it around Sienna's shoulders. 

Striding across the small room, Link retrieved the chair and offered it to the stranger. Dark eyed it, his features betraying his exhaustion. He collapsed into the chair, lying next to Sienna, who had rapidly given in to her own weariness. 

Standing near the stove, Link studied the man, unable to brush off the lingering feelings of curiosity he felt. 

"You clearly know how to handle a blade well," Link commented. He hoped to steer the conversation toward fighting. The earlier tussle with the Gerudo had reminded Link of his need to find a teacher. 

The stranger chuckled. "I've practiced for many years. Sadly, my blade was left in Termina when they took us." 

"Termina?" Link said, confused. 

The stranger gave him a surprised look. "A country east of Hyrule. Sienna and I lived there for many years. We left Hyrule before the war started." 

Link nodded, feeling embarrassed. "Where are you from, then?" he asked. 

"Tellura," he responded dully. "North of Kakariko." 

Dark's eyes were fixed on the flames. His black hair was plastered across his face, and his cloak hung limp and soaking around his shoulders. His posture betrayed his fatigue, and his eyes seemed distant and empty. 

Shivering in his own clothes, Link stood to remove his cloak, hanging it over the fire where it would dry. When he turned to suggest that Dark do the same, his head lifted and their eyes met. Dark's eyes widened. 

It took all his willpower not to audibly gasp. He'd seen those exact same eyes before. Sure his features held unmasked shock, Dark composed himself as if nothing was amiss. 

The memory of a blonde-haired woman had slammed into his mind, her smiling face distorted by the bright glare of the sun. His mother's features were cloudy in his memory, but her eyes were crystal clear. They had been a bright, ocean blue. The same as his new friend's. 

Dark had known it the second he'd had a good look at Link's face. 

Link was his brother. 

His stare unnerved Link. Though he tried to hide it, Dark's expression had visibly changed, betraying his shock. Link crouched slowly, sitting next to the fire where he could keep it burning. Dark continued to watch him, his expression cycling through untold emotions. 

"You remind me of someone." 

Link blinked, surprised at what he had just said. It had spilled out in a rush; he hadn't even thought about it. 

Dark gazed silently at him, not commenting. Above them, angry raindrops assaulted the roof of their tiny shelter, millions of water warriors charging down from the heavens. Their battle cry went unanswered in the tiny house, quiet enough now to pass for a tomb. 

Dark sat slouched in his chair, his damp clothes making him shiver occasionally. His cloak was covered in mud from the road, and the circles under his eyes were a testament to his lack of sleep. 

Link had steered his gaze to the closed window, miraculously intact. Studying the rivulets of water chasing each other across the panes, he waited out the storm, ignoring the persisting sense of familiarity he felt about Dark. 

"Who?" 

Dark's voice was hoarse, but soft. Link turned to him, hearing the bone-deep enervation in his tone. His eyes were full of some unnamed emotion, words he wanted to say but didn't. Or couldn't. 

"I don't know," Link answered honestly, unsure why Dark's following silence made him feel so grieved, like he had lost something. 

Once again, the dark-haired man was staring into the fire, so Link asked a question that had been burning in the back of his mind. 

"How did you do that? Before, with the strange magic in your hands." 

Dark's eyes returned to Link's, his tortured expression making Link feel—absurdly—sorrow. Dark opened his mouth to reply, no longer caring that his weariness, confusion, anger, fear and grief lay plainly on his face. 

"I don't know." 

**~oOo~**

_Hyrule Field_

"Remind me again why I shouldn't be furious with you?" Navi demanded, her wings fluttering with barely subdued rage. 

Link stood near the bank of Zora's river, somewhat replenished from the earlier rainfall. Navi sat upon his shoulder, regarding their new traveling companions with distrust. She hadn't been pleased when Link had returned to the forest cave with two strangers and the admission that he had encountered a band of Gerudo warriors. 

"I did something useful, Navi," Link defended himself. "Doesn't that count for something after being able to do nothing at all to help the Zoras?" 

Navi sighed. "You're not a failure just because there was nothing you can do. You're compensating for it by risking your life to save two strangers." 

"I thought I was supposed to protect people?" Link countered. "Besides, he could teach me. Think of this as a fortunate turn of events." 

Navi huffed. "If he's really as good as you say he is. I don't know, he gives me the chills." 

Link glanced over at Dark and Sienna. They were filling canteens full of water, talking in whispers to each other. "He's a little strange," Link conceded. 

Navi nodded in agreement. "He kind of looks like you," she noted, arching a brow. 

Link whipped his head around. "He does?" 

"I'm telling you," Dark insisted, twisting the lid on his canteen. "There's no mistaking it." 

"I suppose there is a resemblance…" Sienna remarked, peering over her shoulder at the blonde teenager. "He'd be the right age, from the looks of him." 

"It's him, just like Fierce said." Dark strapped the canteen to his belt, walking back up the river's bank. 

Sienna laid a hand on his arm. "Dark, be sure. If you're going to say anything to him…" 

Dark paused. Weeks ago, he'd decided against seeking out the brother Fierce had revealed was still alive. But now fate had crossed their paths. They'd met, and the decision rested with him. 

Dark was certain that Link had no idea who he was—how could he? Watching Link, he could see eerie similarities between the two of them, though they had grown up worlds apart. 

Now that he was here, in the flesh, Dark's optimistic side wanted to reveal the truth to Link. The young man mere feet away was quite possibly his only family; Dark's flesh and blood right in front him. 

But he also knew that Link's destiny veered from his own. If what Fierce had said was true, his brother's shoulders were already burdened with impossible tasks. Could Dark really add to it? There was no telling how Link would react to the news. 

Sienna's eyes were full of concern for him. She could see the struggle going on inside without asking. Her hand reached for his. 

"It's all right," she murmured. 

Dark sighed, angling his body towards hers and resting his forehead against her hair. She continued to reassure him, but it didn't relieve the guilt he felt, keeping the truth from Link. Nor did it ease the hurt of being denied a sibling his whole life, only to have to hold himself back. 

They rejoined Link and his—rather irritating, in Dark's opinion—fairy companion. Navi clearly didn't like him, though he couldn't understand fairy language as Link could. 

They began their journey towards Kakariko, Dark walking beside Link and forcing himself not to say anything. From the corner of his eyes, he stole glances at his brother, knowing that it puzzled and most likely unnerved him. 

_I'll tell you_, Dark thought, studying Link's profile. _When the time is right._


	30. The Fall of the Mighty

Daylight’s last rays had vanished. A faint ember glow could be seen highlighting the ridge, but darkness soon swallowed it. 

Lit windows and strategically located lamps provided adequate light in the village’s streets. Still, they walked with caution as they approached the gate. Link was the only one armed, but it didn’t concern him. Dark had proven an effective fighter even without a weapon. 

Crows cackled from above, watching with beady eyes as the group entered the village. They roosted on the gate, acting as sentinels in the place of absent guards. It was suspicious that Ganondorf’s men did not patrol the streets. Link wasn’t taking chances, though. In the time he’d been gone, the gate had been plastered with drawings of his likeness. There was even a ransom offered by the captain of the guard. 

Dark knelt to rip a poster free. It was crudely drawn, and only vaguely resembled Link. Still, his Kokiri clothing was distinctive enough. 

“What in Din’s name did you do to incur such fear in him? You must be a significant threat for him to want you dead so badly,” Dark commented, a tinge of amusement in his voice. 

Link, his back to the stone wall of a house, shrugged. “Nothing in particular,” he replied, deciding to avoid a lengthy explanation of his quest to awaken the six sages and save Hyrule. 

Dark made a noncommittal noise, unconvinced by Link’s lie. He tossed aside the poster, letting the wind snatch it away. 

“It’s so quiet,” Sienna said, her voice low. 

Dark replied, “Don’t be fooled. We’re being watched.” 

Link surveyed his surroundings, trying to sift through the shadows to catch watching eyes. He saw nothing, but he knew that Dark was right. They were surrounded. As if sensing their prey had noticed them, their pursuers acted. Dark’s left ear twitched; the only warning Sienna was given before he twisted towards her, seizing her around the waist and whirling her to the side. An arrow grazed the arm shielding her, and he cursed. 

Drawing his blade, Link held his shield high to protect himself from an incoming volley of arrows. Sienna, covered by Dark’s body, was quickly pushed behind a stack of crates. With a short order to stay put, he joined their traveling companion as their attackers emerged from the shadows to surround them. 

The nearest one, jabbing a spear in Link’s face, shrieked with an unearthly howl that caused the hairs on his neck to spring straight. Navi hovered close to Link’s head, urging him to defend himself. 

“Bokoblins!” Dark exclaimed, startling Link to action. 

He swung with his sword, cleaving creature in two. It yowled in pain and burst into dark tendrils of smoke. Biting back his disgust as the goblin-like creature’s bright blue blood spattered him, he charged at the second one that came hobbling towards him. 

As he cut down his third, he glanced up to see more joining the fight. His stomach did a sickening plummet. Dark had disarmed one of the bokoblins of its crude club and was using it to smash in the malformed skull of another of the monsters. 

“Dark!” Link called, wiping the blade of the Master Sword in the grass. 

The stunned bokoblin lay at Dark's feet. He prodded the thing’s wrinkled, dark blue flesh. Too-bright eyes darted around in a senseless bloodlust. Grimly, he brought the stolen club down, ending the beast’s miserable life. 

“There’s more!” Link warned, gritting his teeth as more of the goblins swooped down into the square. 

Dark cursed, tossing away the club and picking up a large cleaver. Link eyed it, trying not to find it funny that someone as tall as Dark was using a weapon made for a creature less than half his size. 

“What's so funny?” he asked, annoyed. Link shook his head, raising his sword as the next wave ran at them. 

They never made it. Before the first bokoblin had swung at them, a shard of silver light had shot forth from the shadows to their left, piercing the bokoblin in his skinny neck. With an animalistic cry, it fell, scratching blindly at its wound as it curled up in pain. The others let out screams of frustration and stopped their battle charge. Bokoblin eyes had adapted to see in the dark, but whoever had attacked them remained unseen. 

More flashes of silver whizzed by the two men, hitting their marks without fault. When the last bokoblin had collapsed, Dark whirled, raising the cleaver. 

“Who’s there?” he demanded. 

A rustle of clothing was the only reply from their mysterious rescuer. Then, a woman’s flat, stern voice said: “If I were you, I would strip myself of those clothes with haste.” 

“Excuse me!?” Dark said, shocked. 

“Bokoblin blood contains an acid that will start to eat through your skin in minutes.” 

Disturbed, Dark started to check his clothing surreptitiously for bloodstains. They removed their shirts, as speckles of azure blood had already begun to eat away at the fabric. 

The wall to Link's right moved. He nearly jumped out of his skin as the mystery woman appeared as if from thin air, approaching them. She wore a black mask to hide her features. Only her eyes were visible. In the darkness, it was impossible to discern color, but they swung from Dark to Link—and she stopped short. 

Dimly, Link remembered reading another wanted poster on Kakariko’s notice board. The captain of the guard had been seeking the masked night prowler, someone who had evidently been causing Kakariko’s guards some trouble. She’d apparently been keeping the nastier beasts like the bokoblins away from the village, too. 

“Link? Is that you?” the woman asked, coming towards him. 

Link went rigid, still wary of the stranger but trying to place her voice. Halting just in front of him, she raised an arm, one that he could now see was covered in armour and stripped away her mask. 

Link gasped. “Impa!?” 

Even in the darkness, and with seven years’ worth of hardship etched on her face, he recognized the Sheikah woman. Navi bobbed excitedly, illuminating Impa’s closed-mouth smile and crimson-colored irises. 

“It’s been a long time, Link,” Impa said. Inclining her head, she remarked on the sword still clutched in his fist. “I see that you’ve found the Master Sword. As well as some new friends.” She took in Dark and Sienna, who had risen from her hiding spot to join them. 

“Impa, I want to ask you—“ Link began. 

Impa placed a hand on his shoulder, silencing him. “There’s time enough for explanations later. It isn’t safe here. Follow me.” 

With a curt nod, she turned and leapt back into the shadows’ embrace. Stunned, Link hurried to catch up, his traveling companions following close behind. 

******** **

Warmed by a fire, fueled by a much-needed dinner and safe from prying eyes, Dark let himself relax a touch. Link’s Sheikah friend had taken them to a large house in the eastern quarter of the town. She had claimed it was her childhood home. Though he hadn’t doubted her, he hadn’t commented. 

Dark had never met a Sheikah, but he found the experience unsettling. Within minutes of meeting her, he had appraised her with the cool calculation of a person who does not trust easily. 

She was obviously a skilled fighter. It wasn’t her age or her tense, feline-like demeanor or even the high-quality armor she wore as comfortably as her own skin. It was her stare. Upon entering her home, she had gazed at him…and read everything about him. Impa looked at him and catalogued every strength, every weakness and anything that might give her an advantage over him. She had dismissed him for now, but he knew that in her eyes, he was a potential threat. 

From the time he was a child, he’d had to perform the same quick, cold assessment of everyone he met. Everyone was a potential enemy, a potential threat to him. It was a reaction that came from a life’s worth of distrust and caution. It was a reaction that came with being a fighter. 

Dark had looked into Impa’s eyes and seen the look of a lifelong warrior. He had looked at her and met the eyes of someone who outstripped him in skill. 

And that fact was a daunting one. 

He curled his fingers over Sienna’s, feeling protective. She glanced sideways at him, but said nothing. She already knew how uneasy the situation made him. 

After treating them to a hearty meal, Impa had taken the seat opposite Link, telling him of her exploits in terrorizing Ganondorf’s lackeys who had taken up residence in her village. It was just idle chitchat. 

Dark could see that Link had something on his mind, but wouldn’t discuss it in front of him and Sienna. He kept fidgeting like a child who wanted to ask an important question; it almost made him laugh. Impa shot customary glances their way, watching them like a hawk. 

Feigning a yawn, Dark rose, excusing himself to bed. Sienna thanked the Sheikah woman warmly for her hospitality. Keeping his fingers locked in hers, he hurried upstairs, finding the nearest spare bedroom and darting inside. 

“Dark, what’s wrong?” she asked, intuitive as ever. 

“Shh,” he cautioned her. “I’ll be right back, you can get some sleep; you need it.” 

“You’re going to listen in on them?” she accused. “Dark!” 

He moved to crouch near the stairway, brightly lit from the fire’s glow. From here he could overhear everything that was said. Realizing he would not give up, Sienna sighed, giving him an affectionate kiss on the cheek before turning back into the bedchamber. He turned his attention downstairs. 

Unaware of the intrusion, Link turned to Impa. He knew she’d been waiting for the same thing. His desire for a private conversation came from the belief that Dark would never believe his unlikely story, not distrust. 

“It’s been seven years, Link.” Impa sighed, reaching to rub a knot in her shoulder. “It would seem that you’ve been coming along.” 

Link glanced at Navi, asleep in front of the fire, bundled into his hat. “Not as far as I would like.” 

Impa waited for him to continue, her unnatural eyes searching his face. He remembered being fearful of her, unsettled. Now, he found the deep red of her eyes to be warm and familiar, something he realized he’d desperately missed. 

Seemingly sensing his emotional distress, Impa leaned forward, spreading her hands out, palms up. Link swallowed, and began telling her, briefly, of his travels from his awakening in the Chamber of Sages to meeting Dark and Sienna in the nearby forest. He left out his inner doubts about being the legendary hero, but she seemed to pull the truth from his words anyhow. He forced himself not to ask about Zelda, and he left his meetings with Sheik out as well. 

When he was finished, Impa let out another sigh. “Link…” she said quietly, choosing her words. “These burdens you carry with you, everything you’ve faced…it will not get easier,” she told him. 

Link raised his eyes to meet hers, azure against crimson. “I know,” he said solemnly. 

Impa’s presence held a matronly undercurrent, acting as a balm on the part of his soul that still felt as a child, reassuring it. But her straightforward honesty and bluntness served to steel the part of him that acted as an adult—a side of him that was rapidly growing. 

The adult side of him had grown stronger, more prominent, out of need to protect the small, frightened child from its cruel reality. His battles to retrieve the Spiritual Stones were literal child’s play compared to this. 

This was being the Hero of Time, bearing the burdens of the world upon his shoulders, wielding the weapon of the forces of good, and fighting for the needs and desires of others. Selflessness, sacrifice, strength and courage were needed of the Hero. 

He had nearly failed, when facing Volvagia in the belly of Death Mountain. His spirit had rebelled at the thought of killing an innocent creature. But he had persevered. Link knew that the spark of his old self would soon be covered by walls of steel, designed to help him realize his potential as the Hero of Time. Though it was the only way to save the people of Hyrule, he felt the cost of the surrender. 

Impa regarded him with compassion. “I can see that you’ve made your decision. You cannot truly be the Hero of Time until you become much stronger.” 

After some hesitation, she clasped his shoulder, rising to leave. 

“Impa.” Link reached out and held her arm. He kept his eyes averted from her face. “Where is Zelda?” 

Some unseen force gripped her heart, squeezing without mercy. Foolishly, she had hoped to avoid the question. Her throat forced out an answer, pushing past the tension in her chest. 

“I do not know.” 

Impa left the house then, but Link stayed at the fireside, peering into its light. Dark watched for a moment before he rose from the landing. 

He stripped off the rest of his clothes, which thankfully hadn't been stained with bokoblin blood, and sat on the edge of the bed. Sienna was asleep already, still wearing her boots. 

Dark rose and pulled them off her feet, setting them on the floor. 

Link's story, as told to Impa, confirmed everything Fierce had told him. His brother really was a legendary Hero. At least, the reincarnation of one. 

And he was searching for the late princess. He'd mentioned her name. 

Dark lay on his back, gazing at the ceiling. He wished Fierce would have warned him about this coincidental meeting with Link. A warning might have been nice. 

Sleep came slowly, but when it did all Dark did was dream of black clouds and orange lightning searing him from the inside out. 

**~oOo~ **

A myriad of voices dominated the grand entrance of Hyrule Castle. It was a wide hall with a vaulted ceiling, and spoken words echoed off the polished floors. Stately, carved wooden panels flashed past as she walked, the lush carpets giving way with soft sighs at every footfall. 

Captain Aalrian wasted no time descending the master staircase, seeking the source of the commotion. Whatever it was lay amidst a crowd of Gerudo guards whom she commanded aside. What she saw made her breath hitch. 

“Imara!” Aalrian exclaimed, rushing to her side. “Sister, what happened?” 

Imara brushed aside her sister’s concern. 

“I must speak with Lord Ganondorf. Immediately,” she declared without preamble. 

Without another word, Aalrian gestured for the gathered guards to leave. They dispersed, still gawking, or attended to the injured in Imara’s party. Several of them sported minor burns, though it was storming heavily outside. The injured women were ushered to the infirmary, while the others made their way to the guards’ dorms to dry off. 

Leading Imara, who didn’t appear to be seriously hurt, back up the master staircase, Aalrian could barely conceal her curiosity. She waited until they landed on the third floor, far from anyone’s ears, before questioning her. 

“What happened?” she asked again, her tone insistent. 

Imara heaved a sigh, footsteps measured to match her sister’s pace. “I was instructed to travel to Termina and retrieve someone.” 

“I’m aware,” Aalrian said impatiently, waving a hand for her to continue. 

“Everything went smoothly. We arrived back in Hyrule without any occurrences.” 

Something in her voice made Aalrian halt and turn around. “Imara?” 

“Who is he, Aalrian?” the other woman asked, hazel eyes reflecting the firelight from the torches that lined the walls. Her gaze was unrelenting. 

Aalrian sighed. “Lord Ganondorf believes him to be the relation of his enemy.” 

Imara didn’t need to ask who she was referring to. All the guards had been forbidden to discuss the matter. He was never referred to by name, or by the title he supposedly held. Still, there was speculation and gossip. 

“That’s impossible,” Imara stated. 

Aalrian shrugged, continuing up a secondary set of stairs. “Lord Ganondorf believes it to be true. He claims the old witches confirmed it. They revealed to him another premonition.” 

Imara stopped, surprise etched into her features. Her fingers curled around her sister’s arm before she could climb any higher. “Aalrian,” she said urgently. “Is it true? About the forest kid, is it true?” 

Aalrian hesitated. As the captain of the guard at Hyrule Castle, she spent more time with their king than anyone. Except for the witches. Still, she had knowledge of many things she knew Lord Ganondorf would rather keep quiet. 

She took a step down, leaning close to whisper to Imara. “The king has frequent nightmares. They happen almost every night now. He has tripled the search efforts for the princess, and he is no longer concerned with capturing the kid. Our orders are to terminate.” 

Imara’s expression betrayed her surprise. She had been absent from the castle many months. She nodded for Aalrian to continue. 

The other woman leaned closer, speaking more quietly still. “He spends endless hours in the library, searching for something. It’s become…an obsession almost. And…” She cast a look around. “Lord Ganondorf has become increasingly interested in the Interlopers.” 

Imara’s tanned face paled a shade or two. “Aalrian, I must tell you something. About the brother, he can—“ She stopped short when footsteps sounded above them. 

Her sister silenced her with a look. “Later, Imara. We must hurry.” 

Concerns still wavering on the surface, Imara followed her. Ascending the last staircase, they arrived at the throne room. One of the floor-to-ceiling doors stood ajar. Cautiously, Aalrian eased it open. 

“My lord?” she called, creeping in, Imara at her side. 

The pair entered, the massive door slamming shut loudly behind them. The sound echoed painfully in the long, dark room. At the very end, the impressive throne sat occupied by their master. His head was bowed, knees rigid, hands locked into fists atop them. The tendons in his hands stood out against the darkness of his skin. 

“My lord?” Aalrian called again, approaching him warily. 

Bright crimson hair curtained his face, rustling with every breath he took. His breathing was harsh, almost ragged. At last, he lifted his face, straightening his spine to sit straight and tall in the throne. Imara fought a gasp as she gazed into his face. 

Ganondorf was no longer the young Gerudo warmonger he had been, but the age in his face appalled her. His hairline had begun to recede prematurely, and stress lined the corners of his eyes, which resembled sunken holes in the canvas of his face. His jaw was no longer proudly set, and the general air of command he usually carried was missing. 

The skin stretched over his hands, much thinner than she remembered, and his face was an unhealthy color, reminding her of someone ill. He no longer resembled the lord she had sworn fealty to. 

Clenching her teeth, she wished for nothing more than to shove him off the throne of Hyrule. 

“Lord Ganondorf,” Aalrian addressed him. “Imara has returned from Termina.” 

Ganondorf turned his eyes on Imara. They were bloodshot and unfocused. She lifted her chin, refusing to address him so formally. “I am afraid that the prisoner escaped. I believe him to be headed for Kakariko village and plan to head an attack as soon as we are able.” 

If her lack of respect annoyed him, he didn’t show it. His eyes did narrow at her announcement that she was authorizing an attack without his order or consent. 

“So be it,” he acquiesced. “Alatar will help you.” 

Imara stared at him with thinly veiled disgust. This man was not the warlord she had known and respected. A Gerudo King shouldn't rely on evil magic. A real Gerudo leader would have stood up from that throne and lead his troops into battle himself. 

All her life, Imara had been taught the weaknesses of men and their insatiable ambition; their impatience, irrationality and arrogance. Gerudo culture had been built by the strength of its women. 

Once every hundred years, a single male child was born. According to Gerudo legend, that child would become their leader. What Imara saw in front her of was not the fulfillment of that ancient prophecy. 

What lay before her was not the one destined to lead the Gerudo into providence. Before her sat a weak excuse for a leader. Before her sat the failure of a man’s ambition. 

“Leave.” 

The single word came out in a wheeze. Ganondorf's head bowed; he didn't look up again. 

Imara turned on her heel sharply, barely suppressing a scoff. Rumours and whispered accusations flitted through her mind. Everything she'd heard of the changes in her king were true. 

Aalrian followed behind her, hurrying to keep up with Imara's furious steps. 

“Sister, wait!” she hissed, grabbing at Imara's arm as the doors closed behind them once again. “You should wait for Alatar!” 

“I'll handle it myself,” she snapped back. “I don't need that sorcerer or his ugly magic.” 

Aalrian was undeterred. “Imara, you should listen. Alatar, he--” 

“Alatar doesn't control me,” Imara growled. “We leave as soon as my warriors are able.” 

She shook free of her sister's grasp, stomping away towards the infirmary. Aalrian watched her go with a frown on her face. 

She felt Alatar's eyes, though the corridor was empty. His spies were hidden every crevice of the castle. 

What the sorcerer would do if Imara stood in his way, she didn't know, but she rightly feared it.


	31. Parrying the Blow

Brown stone passageways blended together, connecting into a labyrinthine layout that was deliberately confusing. Unique markers were absent from the walls, corners and floors, making navigation impossible. 

Already, Sheik was hopelessly lost within the maze. He had forgotten where the entrance was, and had seen no exit. As cold as its structure was, the ambiance of the fortress was warm; physically so from the abundance of torches and aesthetically so from the colourful Gerudo tapestries and wall decorations, the same in every corridor, it seemed. 

Sheik and his Gerudo escort passed under a square archway, accented by a bovine skull with blue and green feathers tied to it. In the entire stone structure, there wasn’t a single door. For a fortress carved into the side of a canyon, it didn’t lack for open spaces. 

“Wait here,” the Gerudo guard said tersely, pulling back a dyed cloth barrier that obstructed his view of the other room. She disappeared from sight, her spear making a soft tapping sound as it struck the floor. 

Sheik waited less than a minute, standing perfectly still. He attracted attention nonetheless. The guard had left him in another open room, circular, with a higher ceiling. There were at least a dozen Gerudo sitting at or standing around various wooden tables, watching him. Their outfits, a deep purple color, marked them as low-ranked guards. They remained close together, in a group. 

Sheik understood their tense silence as apprehension. The relationship between Gerudo and Sheikah was complicated at best. He knew not all of them trusted the Sheikah. 

His escort returned, holding back the cloth for him. Sheik nodded and passed through into the other room. This one was smaller, but brightly lit. Another woman stood in the center, waiting for him. There was a faint rustle as his escort let the cloth drop into place, leaving him alone with this second woman. 

This Gerudo wore an emerald green top and pants that left her arms, stomach and calves bare. On her hips were two wickedly curved swords. Her face was uncovered, unlike the low-ranked guards, and she wore decorative armour over her outfit. She approached him without the hesitation of her subordinates, searching him for weapons with efficacy and quickness. Satisfied, she nodded and gestured for him to follow her. 

“She will see you now,” the woman announced, holding aside a second cloth barrier for Sheik. He passed her without comment, finding himself at last at his destination. 

Sheik reached into his pouch for the execution warrant, unfurling it and holding it out to the woman standing on a raised dais before him. 

“I have come—“ 

“I know why you’ve come,” she interrupted. Her back was turned, arms crossed over her chest as she studied a tapestry on the back wall. 

This room was the most richly furnished of all; the stone floors had been covered with thick, brown-red carpet, the brown stone walls concealed with tapestries and more bone-and-feather mounts. Several weapons were also hung ceremoniously on the walls, from decorative daggers to the same wide, curved blade as the Gerudo who had searched him. 

The woman on the dais, her crimson garb denoting her as the fortress's captain, turned to him. 

“You’ve come for the execution.” 

Her crimson hair was arranged practically and securely at the base of her neck, but woven through it were tiny gemstones, as if she were attending a celebration. Matching make-up covered her eyes and lips, accentuating her exotic features and tanned skin. 

“Just in time,” she added, smiling. 

Sheik scanned her appearance, formulating a plan in his mind. “Yes, I bring this order directly from Lord Ganondorf himself.” 

The woman laughed without warmth. “No need, messenger boy,” she said softly, condescending. “I have proceeded without his orders. And tonight we celebrate.” 

“Celebrate?” Sheik asked, puzzled. 

“Our lord need not interfere in our petty affairs,” she explained, stepping down from the dais. “One traitor is not cause for concern. He shouldn’t trouble himself.” 

Sheik watched, carefully neutral, as the captain strode past him, dismissing the matter. 

“She has been executed already?” Sheik asked, unable to keep slight alarm from his voice. 

The Gerudo captain halted by the doorway. “That is my message to Lord Ganondorf, yes.” 

Sheik caught the care with which she chose her words. “I shall deliver him your words, exactly.” 

The woman nodded, then added, “Our friend leaves tonight, during the festivities.” 

“Then I wish to speak with her immediately.” 

She walked back towards him, stopping when she was inches away from Sheik’s face. With an iron grip she grasped his arm, edging close so she would not be overheard. 

“Do not make the mistake of thinking you will be safe, should it come to light that you are his spy. If harm befalls her, or anyone at this fortress, you will be the responsible party in my eyes.” 

Sheik kept his expression blank. “We must all appear to be something we are not,” he stated. “Even his closest allies.” 

She chuckled ruefully. “He has no allies here.” Her expression grew sad, constrained. “But he continues to control all our fates.” Releasing her grip, her eyes became hard and serious as the stone, hiding underneath the opulence of the room. “Enjoy your free passage here, Sheikah.” 

He watched silently as she left the room, the cloth fluttering behind her. Behind him, the Gerudo emblem stitched upon the tapestry beckoned to him. Sheik turned to study it, a representation of the Spirit element. 

The Gerudo had long held an association with it. In the tapestry’s design, the two forces of Spirit wove together, each inseparable from the other, balancing each other. It reflected the tribe’s belief that the mortal soul was governed by the two forces of the world: darkness and light. 

He frowned at the image. Lately, there had been no balance in Hyrule. For too long, darkness had snuffed out the light. 

**~oOo~**

Kakariko’s late morning hustle and bustle proved too much to ignore. Wakefulness imposed itself upon Dark, forcing him to open his eyes. With a groan, he sat up in the bed, gently pulling Sienna’s arms from around his waist. 

The window shutters were rattling in the easy breeze; with some reluctance he rose to close them, shutting out the light and noise so as not to wake her. Moving silently to the wash basin nearby, he picked up the pitcher. Water tossed about in the basin, settling into a few stray ripples. Dark cupped his hands, bringing them up to wash his face. Sputtering, he smoothed his hair back from his forehead. 

He’d just pulled on a pair of trousers when he heard footsteps thudding up the stairs. A moment later, Link’s blonde head appeared on the other side of the railing, already dressed in his odd green tunic and floppy cap. 

“Morning,” Dark said, buckling his belt around his hips. 

“Morn—Oh, sorry,” Link muttered, stopping so suddenly he had to grasp the railing to avoid tripping. 

His eyebrow rose, wondering what had embarrassed his brother. The amused expression froze on his face as he realized he’d mentally referred to the other man as his brother. Which he suspected he was, but it didn’t make him feel less strange. Dark cleared his throat, reaching under the bed for his boots as Link continued to stare awkwardly at his feet. 

As he continued to dress, Link crossed to the window, moving to throw the shutters open again. Sunlight tumbled into the room, falling onto the bed where Sienna was still sleeping. With a soft moan, she stirred in her sleep, tossing the covers aside as she turned over. 

Hearing the noise, Link spun around, muttering another apology. His eyes fell on Sienna’s bared back, a view Dark had been enjoying as he wrestled into a shirt. 

“I’m so sorry,” Link exclaimed, his face burning red as he averted his eyes. 

Chuckling, Dark leaned over to throw the covers over her. “What,” he asked, “never seen a naked woman before?” 

He was surprised when Link’s eyes went wide and he started stammering a nonsensical reply. 

“I—uh—it’s complicated,” he settled on, walking brusquely to the stairs and thudding back down the steps. 

Dark hurried to the plain wooden desk in the room, scribbling a note to Sienna to explain where he’d gone before following after Link. He found him downstairs, strapping his Hylian shield onto his back. Dark took a moment to admire the craftsmanship as Link finished putting on his gear. When he turned for the door Dark held him back with a hand on his shoulder. 

He laughed lightly. “Link, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” The foreign urge to give his sibling a brotherly taunt gave him pause. He pulled his hand away. 

The blonde shrugged, reaching for the door knob. “It’s fine.” 

Dark intercepted him again as he stepped out the door. He grabbed hold of Link’s shoulder, steering him away from Impa’s house and down the stone steps just outside. 

“Come with me,” he said conversationally, but Link heard the steel edge in his tone. “We need to talk.” 

***********

They sat on the grassy knoll behind Kakariko’s distinctive windmill. The sheltered valley was at its busiest, the sun at its zenith in the sky. On their way they had stopped to buy food, and then Dark had shown Link the secret path up behind the windmill. 

Dark lay on his back, munching on an apple. He watched Link from the corner of his eyes, taking mental notes. He was a bit…strange to say the least. He glanced behind them often, observing the expanse of prairie beyond the border fence of the village. Dark couldn’t bring himself to. He knew that just miles behind him lay their hometown. 

Link grabbed an apple from the pile. Dark noticed how he took it in his left hand, tossing it once before bringing it to his teeth. He set down the remains of his own snack, resisting the habit to toss it in the same way. 

“You wanted to talk?” Link asked, wiping his chin. 

He sat up, picking stray pieces of grass off his dark shirt. “I did.” 

When he said nothing more, Link raised a brow. “About what?” he prompted. 

Dark crossed his legs in front of him, taking a breath in before answering. “I thought perhaps I could learn more about you.” 

He could see from his face that Link didn’t buy it, but the kid didn’t call him on his false pretense. Dark sighed, deciding it might be faster to get to the point. 

“Where are you heading after this?” 

Link didn’t answer. He watched Dark warily, trying to pull his intentions from his expression. He kept his face carefully blank. 

The blonde shrugged. “Impa has agreed to train me. I'll stay in Kakariko for a while. After that, I will continue my quest.” 

Dark snickered. “Your quest?” he asked mockingly. Link shot him a glare. He held up his hands, chuckling. “I have a confession; I overheard your conversation with the Sheikah woman last night.” 

“Why, you!” 

Dark blinked. Link looked surprised, then sighed in resignation. He reached up and pulled his cap off, revealing the tiny blue fairy. 

Dark smirked as the tiny creature flew towards his face, her miniscule features pinched into a disapproving frown. 

“Hello, tiny fairy,” he said, enjoying her disgruntled look. “Eavesdropping, were we?” 

She harrumphed. “You’re one to talk.” Her little eyes narrowed. “How is it you can understand me?” 

Link eyed him, apparently wondering the same thing. 

Dark shrugged. “You're the fairy, not me. Don't some Hylians have a natural ability to understand fairy language?” 

He waved his hand back and forth, chasing Navi back to Link’s side. “I eavesdropped out of concern for my safety, not to mention Sienna’s.” 

Link was shocked. “You think I’m a threat to your safety? We know nothing about you, either!” he accused. “Not to mention your weird, magical…ability,” he added, waving his hands in an imitation of the strange spell Dark had used on the Gerudo the other night. 

He fought a shiver at the memory, steeling himself. “And you wear green and constantly have a fairy at your side,” he shot back. “You’re too old to be one of the Lost Children. So what, are you mad, or just more than usually strange?” Dark grinned slyly. 

Link was on the defensive. “I was one of the Kokiri,” he said. “When I was an infant, my mother brought me into the forest to escape a war. She left me in the care of the Kokiri, who raised me until I was old enough to leave. That is when I started on this quest, the one you overheard about last night.” 

Dark kept his expression neutral. No easy feat, especially when Link mentioned their mother. “So it’s true,” he said, trying to ignore how much Link resembled the woman in his memories. “You are this legendary Hero.” 

Link looked away. “I don’t go around telling everyone. It’s unlikely they would believe me, anyhow.” 

“You mustn’t tell a soul,” Navi said, pointing a finger at Dark’s nose. “Ganondorf’s spies look for Link constantly. If he were caught—“ 

“I have no intention of handing him over to Ganondorf,” Dark scoffed. He locked eyes with the blonde. “My parents perished in that same war. Ganondorf slaughtered them.” 

Link’s expression softened, his eyes filling with sympathy. Dark had seen that look before. Her image flashed in his mind’s eye, her gentle voice soothing him. He withdrew his gaze. 

“I’m sorry,” his brother murmured. He startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. It was a simple gesture on Link’s part, but it spoke volumes to Dark. 

“I want in,” he said, turning back to Link. “I want in on your quest. It’s why I wanted to talk with you. I want to help you defeat Ganondorf.” 

Navi flapped her delicate wings furiously, her voice shrill. “Have you lost all sense? Only Link can defeat Ganondorf. Besides, you’ve still given us no reason to trust you!” 

Dark swatted at her, annoyed. “He might be the one chosen by the gods to save Hyrule, but he’s going to need help. I’m offering.” He looked back at Link. “You know the Din’s Fire spell already, but I can teach you more that would be invaluable. Your swordplay, too, could use some work.” 

Link regarded him for a moment, weighing his options. Dark gave him what he hoped was a trustworthy smile. Slowly, he extended his hand. 

“We have a deal then, Dark.” 

Navi huffed. “I hope you’re right about this,” she said to Link. She flew over to Dark, narrowing her eyes. “I still don’t like you,” she muttered, fluttering away. 

Dark made a face when her back was turned. Link fought back a laugh. 

He chuckled, watching as Link put his floppy hat back on his head, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. “ 

We start tomorrow,” Dark told him, treating his sibling to his best sinister smirk. “Be ready.” 

It might have been his imagination, but he thought he saw apprehension cross Link’s features. 

*************

“I simply can’t believe it, Impa.” 

Impa sat at the head of her dining room table, arms crossed over her chest. She had gathered three of Kakariko’s most influential to talk about what had transpired last night. To her right sat a man and a woman. The man behind her, the one who had spoken, turned to face her. 

“Bokoblins inside the village’s perimeter? They loathe humans; it’s unlikely they would venture so close to such a populated place.” 

He was a stocky man, middle-aged and bald. He had drooping eyes and a stern mouth, like a bulldog. 

Impa shook her head. “Unlikely, yes, but not impossible. They were stalking our newcomers.” 

“The answer is simple then,” he replied, taking his place at the table. “Don’t allow any more refugees into the village. I’d be happy to have my men construct a wall.” 

Impa placed her palm flat on the table with a sharp slapping sound. “Out of the question, Mutoh.” 

He grunted. “If we close the gate, we eliminate some risks to the people already living here.” 

“He might have a point, Impa,” the second man broke in. 

Like Mutoh, he was middle-aged, bald and sported a full beard and mustache. His muscular physique and soot-darkened shirt and trousers betrayed profession as a blacksmith. His slight accent revealed his southern Ordonian heritage. 

Impa stood, resting both hands on the table. “As long as I protect this village, any and all refugees will be welcomed,” she asserted, eyes fixing on Mutoh. 

He scoffed, shaking his head. Rising again, unable to keep still, he resumed his vigil at the window. The second man leaned across the table towards Impa. 

“Mistress Impa,” he implored her. “The last thing I would suggest is closing our gates to those in need. I know well that many citizens are still without homes and are vulnerable. However, it would be prudent to address our monster problem.” 

She sighed. “The new guard will not allow it, Taver.” 

Taver grunted, smoothing his beardwith a hand. He knew without asking that she was referring to the small number of armed soldiers loyal to Ganondorf that patrolled the town. 

“We could handle them,” he finally said, a coy smile hiding beneath his bushy mustache. “Their numbers have dwindled, no thanks to you, mistress.” 

Impa pretended aloofness, but a smile tugged at her lips. “Whatever do you mean?” 

The other woman at the table let out a laugh. She was young, with a pretty, heart-shaped face and honey-colored hair. She wore it long and braided— a popular style. Her dress was short-sleeved and only covered her to her knees. Overtop of the dress she had wrapped a shawl like a second skirt. Around her neck and wrists was an assortment of jewelry that made light clinking noises whenever she moved. A long red feather hung from one ear, a homemade earring. 

“Really, Impa,” she said, giggling. “Don’t play coy. You’ve been picking them off for months. It’s their oversight that they haven’t been sending reinforcements. Though I hardly think it would have made a difference to the so-called ‘Night Prowler’.” 

Impa suppressed her own laugh and ignored the grin on Taver’s face. “An open secret, it would seem,” she replied. “But most of Kakariko’s able-bodied are without weapons.” 

Taver shrugged. “My armory was raided long ago. It’s likely they’ve hidden it somewhere nearby for their own personal use.” 

Impa grunted in agreement. “They have. And I have managed to discover the location. However, it wasn’t prudent until now to arouse suspicion through theft.” 

“Then let’s go take them,” Taver said enthusiastically. “The time is right.” 

“It is possible we could find enough reinforcements to drive them out,” Mutoh mused, leaning back on the sill. “This has been a very long time coming.” 

The young woman piped up, “Let’s do it, Impa. We are stronger than they are now.” 

She listened to the voices, positive and excited, but knew how delicate the situation was. Kakariko had been hanging by a thin thread for years. Perhaps it was time for them to take a stab back at their longtime tyrant. But Impa knew not to be fooled. 

“Don’t allow yourself to think we are strong, Fayne,” Impa addressed the other woman at the table. Her cheerful smile dropped from her pretty face. “We have an opportunity here, but it is not without risks. We are still vulnerable to Ganondorf and his allies.” 

“If we get rid of the rest of his guards, and fortify the village with a wall like Mutoh said…”she argued. 

“Do not mistake Ganondorf’s inaction for apathy,” Impa contested. “But I do agree that his guards have overstayed their welcome.” 

“What do you intend to do?” Taver asked her. 

Impa stood up from the table, crossing to the window and glancing outside. “Gather your men tonight, Mutoh,” she instructed. “We will meet again tomorrow.” 

Gruffly, Mutoh bid the three of them a good day before departing Impa’s house to do as she asked. Taver turned to her, curious. “And I?” 

“Our newcomers may be of help to us here,” she mused. “Perhaps they can get back your weapons for you.” 

“You think they will help us?” Fayne asked. 

“Yes,” Impa replied with certainty. “Tomorrow, I'd like you all to meet them. I have no doubt they will vital to our mission.” 

Taver grunted. “I sense you are not strictly talking about ridding Kakariko of its invaders.” 

Impa turned to the blacksmith and young woman. “No. I believe they will both play a role in helping us to reclaim Hyrule.” 

Taver grinned. “When we retrieve them, Mistress Impa, you have my weapons.” 

“And my magic,” Fayne declared, leaning forward to place her palm flat on the table’s surface. 

Taver covered her hand with one of his giant ones. Impa smiled, placing her hand above theirs. 

“Then I’d say it was time that Ganondorf knows we’re here.”


	32. Resistance

For several days, the sound of metal clashing, boots tearing up dirt and shouts of battle rang through the graveyard. It was the only feasible place to practice as the only residents to disturb were resting peacefully. 

Dark slid in the dirt, using a nearby fence to support his weight as he bent back, dodging a swing from Link’s blade. A glaring opportunity presented itself—Link had over-swung and was thrown off balance. 

Dark grinned, pushing off the fence for maximum momentum. His blade sliced through the air towards Link but struck metal as the blonde raised his shield just in time. The shock zinged up Dark’s arm, but he held fast, parrying Link’s next strike. 

They stepped around each other like two partners locked in a deadly dance. Patterns of footfalls and skids in the dirt wove together, marking each man’s movements and telling the story of the fight. Link was breathing hard, enjoying the challenge that sparring with Dark presented. He was the faster one, but Dark was stronger. With a grunt, Dark slammed his weight into Link, knocking him over a fence. With a surprised shout, Link rolled to the side before his opponent could vault over the barrier and attack. 

Dark’s sword hit nothing but grass. He looked up at Link, smiling in approval. 

“Very nice,” he said, straightening. “Ready for a break?” 

Link nodded, sitting on a nearby headstone. Dark chuckled, retrieving a water canteen from the ground nearby and offering it to Link. 

“You’re quick,” he complimented him, sitting in the grass at his feet. 

“Thanks,” Link replied, tilting the canteen up. It was hot today after some many dreary days. Summer had arrived at last. 

Dark sighed, lying back in the grass. It was silent save for the chirping of birds. Link’s fairy had gone back to Impa’s house to see Sienna, which probably accounted for the peace and quiet. Besides, with her help Link would have an unfair advantage in a spar. 

“You’re getting better,” he told Link, trying to start conversation. 

Link merely nodded, apparently preoccupied with the scenery. It’s a graveyard, Dark thought cynically, what’s there to see? 

In truth, he felt that Link was attempting to put some distance between them. Dark had spent most of the past few days with Link. He continued to struggle with the decision to reveal their relation and had overcompensated by trying to create a friendship between himself and Link. Much to Dark’s chagrin, friendship couldn’t be forced, and he feared he was alienating his brother more than endearing himself to Link. 

Dark sat up, deciding to give him a break. “I think that’s enough for today,” he announced. 

“Oh, okay,” Link said, surprise evident on his face. He stood up, retrieving his sword and sheathing it behind his back. 

Frowning, he watched as Link gathered his things, preparing to head back to Impa’s no doubt. 

“Hey,” he said, stopping the blonde in his tracks. 

“Yeah?” 

Dark sighed, wondering how in the world one forged the bond of brotherly affection without actually saying so to the other person. “Come with me,” was all he said, striding out of the graveyard. 

Puzzled, Link followed, closing the gate behind them. They walked through the village streets, passing by the busy shopping district, entering an alley that Link recognized. Dark stopped outside a dark wooden door. The sign above it read The Angry Deku in red lettering. 

Dark held open the door. “Ever had a drink?” he asked Link in a teasing tone. “Come on,” he added when Link gave him a sheepish look. “Time to be men.” 

Dark seated himself at a table in the corner, his brother sitting opposite. He noted Link’s discomfort with amusement. He knew that the kid had missed the last seven years, but honestly. Didn’t he know anything? 

He steered the teen through the door, directing him to a table close to the bar but far from any other patrons. At this time of day, it wasn’t crowded. Dark sat facing the door out of habit, and Link sat opposite. 

A slim Ordonian girl approached their table, wiping her hands on her apron. She appeared to be around Link’s age. Dark watched as he ordered a drink. Not even once did he glance at the girl’s pretty face. As she walked away, Dark’s eyes trailed appraisingly over her form. She wasn’t bad looking. 

A moment later, she returned to set down two mugs. Dark seized his, gulping without pause until the tankard was dry and slamming it down. Link gave him a startled look, having not even taken a sip. 

Dark laughed, then sighed as he waved to the waitress to bring him a refill. “You really don’t know what you’re doing, do you?” 

“How do you mean?” Link asked, wiping foam from his mouth as he lowered the mug. 

He accepted his second mug before answering. “From what I’ve gathered about your little story, you missed out on the last seven years of your life. So you’re essentially a child in an adult body trying to act like an adult but your mind is still that of a child and hasn’t really accepted your new adult instincts,” he summarized. 

Link laughed. “To put it succinctly, yes,” he replied. “I haven’t quite mastered blending in.” 

“You stand out,” Dark said bluntly. “You act like a lunatic sometimes.” 

Link gave him a wry smile. “Thanks for putting it nicely.” 

“That was nicely,” he said, his mouth lifting into a smirk. “If you want people to believe that you’re a grown man, you have to act like one. When you come to bars, you have a drink and flirt with the waitress, maybe get in a fight.” 

“You want to get in a fight?” Link asked, raising a brow. 

Dark shrugged. “Not really. But you should always be ready for one since the world doesn’t lack for idiots.” He took another swig from his mug. 

He picked up his own mug, stifling a chuckle. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“Enough talking,” Dark said, bumping his cup against Link’s. “Time to drink.” 

**~oOo~ **

_Lon Lon Ranch_

A flock of birds flew overhead, sweeping over the high wall that surrounded the property and through the yard. A few of them stopped in their flight to roost upon the paddock’s fence. Others landed on the soft earth, pecking the dirt for food. They twittered lightly as they searched, harmonizing with the sweet voice of the girl working in the yard. She sang softly as she walked through the enclosure, filling the feeding troughs from a bag she held under her arm. 

With a whinny, a young horse galloped towards her, scaring the birds and causing them to fly away. She turned to the animal, stroking its velvety nose with fondness. The mare nickered, tossing her head. 

“Epona,” Malon murmured to the chestnut mare. “what’s wrong?” 

The horse tossed her head again, turning away from Malon. To her surprise, her horse cantered away to the other side of the paddock. Dropping the bag of feed, she rushed after her, untying the apron around her waist and casting it aside. Something was happening at the ranch’s gates. Stepping past the horses that had gathered, as if they had sensed something was amiss, she closed the gate to the paddock behind her, giving Epona a quick pat. 

“Father!” she called when she noticed him exiting the farmhouse. 

A group of riders had come through the ranch’s gate and were dismounting before her father. They were all women, dressed in foreign garb. An icy terror gripped her heart—she had seen people like this before. 

Malon called again, “Father!” As she approached, the farmhand, Ingo, emerged from the stables and stopped her in her tracks. 

“No, Malon!” he warned, pulling her back. “It is not safe.” 

She shook free of him impatiently, rushing to her father’s side. She grabbed at his arm. “Dad!” 

Talon took her hand, pushing her behind him. “Malon! Get back, girl!” 

“You should listen to your father, dear,” one of the riders said. She was dressed all in black, wearing minimal armor and toting a spear on one shoulder. The stranger glared down at the three of them with ice in her gaze; Malon shivered. 

“What do you want?” Talon demanded of the Gerudo riders. “You have no right to be on my land.” 

The woman laughed, leveling her spear at Talon. “This land belongs to Lord Ganondorf. We are here to claim what he is rightfully owed as sovereign lord of Hyrule.” 

Talon grunted, “He is no lord of Hyrule.” 

She took a step forward, thrusting the spear, stopping it just short of Talon’s throat. Malon let out a scream of fear. 

“You owe him your fealty,” the Gerudo hissed. “If you won’t obey, we’ll find someone who will.” 

She turned to one of the armed riders, ordering him forward. He stalked forward, seizing Talon by his shirt and pulling him forward. Falling face-first into the dirt, Talon scrambled to avoid the brute’s spear. Little by little, he forced the ranch owner to the entrance of his property. 

“Leave this ranch,” the Gerudo ordered Talon. “Consider yourself banished. Your property has a new owner.” 

Talon protested, “You cannot do this!” 

Malon ran towards her father, but two riders stopped her, holding her back. “Dad!” she cried. 

“Take him,” the Gerudo said, turning to face Malon and Ingo as Talon was dragged out of the ranch. 

She screamed for her father until her voice was hoarse, but it was no use. He was thrown out the ranch’s gate. His aggressor returned, striding up to Ingo next. 

“Don’t hurt him!” Malon begged of the Gerudo woman. “Please!” 

“Hold him,” the woman said, pulling a cloth from her saddle bag. She tied it over Malon’s mouth, quieting her sounds of struggle. 

“Get your hands off me!” Ingo growled, fighting the brute as he held his arms behind his back. 

Satisfied that Malon’s muffled screams couldn’t be heard, the Gerudo woman turned to the others in her party. She barked out an order that chilled Malon down to her soul. 

“Bring me the witches.” 

**~oOo~ **

_The Angry Deku Pub_

A tower of glasses stood on the table between them of Dark’s construction, but for the most part, Link’s consumption. Dark could barely contain his chuckles at watching a clearly intoxicated Link try and place his latest empty glass at the top. When he missed for the fourth time and nearly knocked over the arrangement of glasses, Dark seized his wrist. 

“All right, give me that,” he chided, taking the glass from Link’s grip. “You’ve had enough.” 

Link dropped his arms to the table, resting his chin on them. He stared through the glasses at the bottom of the pyramid, his eyes unfocused. 

“It’s getting late,” Dark mumbled, fighting the effects of alcohol himself. “We should go.” 

The pub was lively now, and noisy. He stood up from the table, a little unsteady on his feet, and took hold of Link’s arm. After some struggle, he managed to manoeuvre them into the street. 

They didn’t get far before a large bald man with a mustache stopped them. He deliberately bumped into Dark, who lost his grip on Link. He stumbled and fell to his knees. 

“Damn,” Dark muttered, kneeling to pick up his friend. He was about to spit curses at the man when he was grabbed by the collar. 

“Ah, you must be the newcomer,” the man said in an Ordonian accent. He sniffed lightly, chuckling when he smelled the alcohol on Dark’s breath. “Been indulging have we?” he asked, nodding at Link. 

“Can’t handle his drink yet,” Dark snickered, wondering what it was this man wanted. 

“Seems you could use some help. Where is it you’re headed?” 

“Impa’s,” Link slurred, rising unsteadily to his feet. 

“Perfect!” the man said, grabbing each of them by their collars, supporting them as he steered them eastward, towards Impa’s. “That’s exactly where you’re needed.” 

“Needed?” Dark asked, fighting the man’s grip on him weakly. 

“Indeed. She asked me to find you two troublemakers.” 

“Who the hell are you?” Dark asked rudely, stumbling as he walked. 

Rather than be offended, the man laughed. “My name is Taver. I’m a blacksmith.” 

Dark scoffed. “One of that Sheikah woman’s lackeys?” 

Taver grunted, but didn’t comment. It didn’t take him long to haul the two of them up the stone steps and through Impa’s doorway. Link was close to blacking out, so Taver dropped him in a chair and crossed to the kitchen. Dark sat at the table with Link, rubbing his eyes in an effort to clear his head. 

“Take this, my boy,” Taver said to Link, tipping his head up. He held a bottle of red potion to his mouth. Link took it and swallowed a sip. “There’s a good lad,” Taver said, putting a hand on his shoulder. He turned to address Dark. “Wait here. Impa wanted to speak with you. I’ll make sure he recovers.” 

Dark watched silently as Taver guided Link upstairs to his room. He waited only a few minutes before the door opened and the owner of the house entered. She eyed him, clearly expecting him. 

“You wanted to speak with me?” he asked, rubbing his aching temples. 

“Yes,” she replied, taking a seat across the table from him. “There are some things we must discuss.” 

Dark gave her a mock bow. “Do continue then, Mistress Impa.” 

She knocked a brow, leaning forward. She somehow managed to give the gesture menace. “I know what you are.” 

Her words fell like tiny bombs, deafening him so every other background noise seemed muted. Her eerie eyes held his captive, her lips set in a grim line. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me.” 

“What I am? Do you hear yourself?!” Dark asked, keeping his voice low lest Taver or Link overheard. 

Impa crossed her arms over chest before she answered him. “When I first laid eyes on you, I had my suspicions. Then Link told me of your strange abilities.” 

Dark cursed, wishing he had an explanation for his lightning-filled smoke ball magic trick that didn’t sound insane. 

She continued, ignoring his muttered obscenities. “From what he described, I was able to identify what it was you are able to manifest. From there, it isn’t a stretch to deduce what you are.” 

“And what am I?” he retorted, getting impatient with her vagueness. 

She straightened in her chair, holding a palm out towards him. He watched, puzzled, as magical energy began to flow within her. There were no physical signs, but he felt the charge in the air as she summoned whatever power she had. To his shock, the magic centered in her palm, and there appeared the exact same smoky ball. Inside was the captive lightning, sparking and zigzagging incessantly in the tiny space, crackling softly. 

“How did you do that?” he asked in a whisper, his shock stealing his voice. 

“I am one of the Sheikah,” she answered. “And many of us have an affinity with Shadow. This is an ancient magic, one that is rare even among my people. It is one of the reasons Ganondorf had them slaughtered.” 

“And you think…I have this affinity? I’m not Sheikah, I’m Hylian.” 

“Not full-blooded,” she corrected him. “One of your parents carried Sheikah blood. Likely not much, but it was powerful enough to give you the abilities of one of my ancestors. As I said, it is ancient magic. It is probable that we are the only two in this world who can wield it.” 

Dark stared at the orb in her palm, watching the lightning as it tried to escape its prison. It had to have been his father; his mother had been a pure-blood Hylian, and a noblewoman. Some nobles had a mania for blood purity. His father had passed on to him physical traits that were reminiscent of the Gerudo, or the Sheikah. His appearance had caused others to call him a half-blood and other things far worse. It would seem they had been correct. Why had Fierce never told him he had mixed blood? 

Imara’s words echoed in his mind. He shut his eyes. Perhaps you have some Gerudo blood in you, hmm? 

Impa was still watching him, perhaps with a hint of sympathy in her eyes. “From your expression, you weren’t aware.” 

Dark shook his head. “That I was half-blood? No.” 

Impa dispelled the orb, crossing her arms again. “Perhaps not half. Your mother was Hylian, but your father was most likely mixed blood himself on his mother’s side.” 

He rubbed his temples, feeling lightheaded. He let out a sarcastic chuckle. “More reasons for people to be prejudiced.” 

Impa smiled in spite of herself. “There is an advantage to this knowledge. As I said, Ganondorf fears this power. You pose a great threat to him.” 

He laughed. “Well that, at least, is good news.” He paused, his mind going back to what she had said a moment before. “My mother…you said she was Hylian.” 

She shrugged. “Was she not?” 

“You knew her,” Dark concluded, working through the fog of new information, trying to decipher the riddles in what she’d said. 

Impa shook her head. “I did not know her personally. But that is the second thing we must talk about.” 

“My mother?” Dark asked, confused. 

Impa inched her chair forward, lowering her voice. “Yes. The mother whom you happen to share with Link.” 

Still as stone, he let her words sink in. Her expression didn’t waver; she knew the truth. 

“So you know,” he said finally. “You know he’s my brother.” 

Impa replied, “Yes. There is a resemblance.” She paused, her eyes darting over his face. “Link, however, appears to possess very little of your father’s mixed heritage, and so does not have the ability.” 

Impa stood up, glancing upstairs to ensure they weren’t being overheard. She crossed to the hearth, preparing a fire. 

“Are you going to tell him?” Dark asked. 

“It is not my place,” she responded, striking a match. When the fire caught, she turned to him, her face serious as stone. “I would, however, make a request.” 

“And what is that?” he asked, trying to keep any sarcasm from his tone. It unnerved him that she so much about him, and he didn’t trust her completely. 

“Keep him safe,” she said, to his surprise. “He will need as many allies as possible if he hopes to succeed. It just so happens that you’ll be very useful.” 

Dark chuckled. “You don’t trust me to have his back?” 

“No,” she replied bluntly. “Thus far, Dark, you do not make the list of people I trust.” 

He grunted. “Likewise. But I understand where you’re coming from.” 

Impa smiled, extending a hand. “Then we can agree.” 

He grasped her forearm tightly, locking their arms together. “Rest assured, mistress,” he said, meeting her crimson eyes, “Link has an ally in me.” 

Before he could pull his arm back, her grip tightened and she yanked him closer. Her lips against his ear, she said, “I trust you don’t need me to tell you what should happen if you betray him.” 

Dark smirked. “’Course not.” When Impa released him, he asked, “Was that all you wanted me for?” 

From the way her brow rose, his tone didn’t go unnoticed. “Not quite. Now that I’ve shared with you what I know, and have your word concerning Link, I have a favor to ask.” 

“A favor?” he asked skeptically. 

“Ah, I see you’ve begun recruitment, Impa.” 

Dark turned to see the blacksmith, Taver, coming downstairs. Before he could ask what he meant by ‘recruitment’, he said, “You see—Dark, was it?—Mistress Impa and I are part of a group fighting against Ganondorf. I believe you have similar goals?” 

He smirked. “You could say that. If I had to guess, I’d say your little group is the reason why Kakariko is free of his influence?” 

Taver grinned. “Not yet, it isn’t. We have one more task ahead of us. And it requires a great deal of stealth.” 

Dark shrugged. “What do you need me for, if you have her?” He jerked his head in Impa’s direction. 

“This requires a particular skill,” Impa replied. She flashed him a grin. “Think of it as a chance to prove your trustworthiness to me” 

Dark laughed. “You’re giving me a chance to defy Ganondorf and win your trust? How can I say no, Impa?” 

The Sheikah woman rested her hand on the table, leaning down so her face was level with his. “Good. We start training tomorrow.” 

“What exactly will you be teaching me?” Dark asked, cocking a brow. 

Impa’s mouth curved into a smile. “How to wield the element of Shadow.”


	33. The Shadow Dweller

_The Colossus Library_

With a sigh, Sheik set aside yet another dusty tome. It had contained none of the information he hoped to find. 

The room was cramped, small—disproportionate to the amount of knowledge it held. Oval-shaped, it had a high ceiling decorated with the Gerudo symbol. Tall shelves that had stood the test of time surrounded the only other furniture items, a simple wooden chair and desk. The library had been hidden behind a false wall in a secret temple, buried deep within the sands of the Gerudo desert. It was truly secluded. 

Before they gained a name for themselves as thieves, the Gerudo ancestors had been scholars interested in the acquisition and recording of history’s secrets. 

The secret stronghold of knowledge he sat in was supposed to hold stores of information about the distant past. Hyrule was a land full of secrets and her oldest mysteries could be solved here. Or so he hoped. 

“You’ve taken a big risk coming out here with me.” 

Sheik’s head lifted from the aged volume he was holding. A Gerudo woman stood in the darkened doorway. In her hands she held a lantern; however, it did not contain a natural flame. The glass panes were frosted with ice, and the flame inside them burned azure blue. 

“Blue fire?” Sheik asked, eyeing the lantern as she set it down on a pile of books. 

“Mm. Easier on the eyes. Especially in this old place,” she replied, gesturing to the antique, dust-covered shelves. 

She sat next to Sheik, folding her legs under her gracefully. Pulling a nearby book into her lap, she opened to a random page. “Any luck?” she inquired. 

“None yet,” he replied with a sigh. 

“Perhaps you could tell me what it is we’re looking for,” she suggested. 

Sheik shook his head. “The less you know, the safer it will be for you, Nabooru.” 

She scoffed, tossing her long red ponytail over her shoulder. “Safe? I haven’t been safe since Ganondorf took over. I have no doubt he will continue to search for me.” 

He reached for yet another book, discarding the first. “He believes you to be dead. He sent me to deliver the warrant for your execution. Luckily for us, Aveil’s loyalty is to you, not him.” 

“True,” Nabooru murmured, squinting at the page in front of her. “But I’ll hide out here for the time being. I don’t like the idea of serving him mindlessly again.” 

He made a noise of acquiescence. “He’s focused on other things…Nabooru, can you read this?” 

She took the book he offered to her, scanning the characters on the page. “Hmm, one of the old languages,” she muttered, moving closer to the lantern for better light. “Let’s see.” 

Sheik waited patiently as she recited what was written on the page under her breath, translating the antiquated language into Hylian for him. After catching up with Nabooru at the fortress, he’d asked her to accompany him here, hoping she could help. 

“Look here,” Nabooru said, pointing to the only image on the page. It featured a symbol—six water droplets arranged in a circle. 

“The symbol for Water,” Sheik mused. 

“Aye,” she said, tracing her finger over the yellowed page. “This novel contains old legends about the Zora race.” 

“Is there anything useful?” Sheik asked. 

Nabooru smirked. “Indeed there is. You see it mentions a river with special significance. A river that happens to flow through the canyon in Gerudo territory. As it happens, I have seen this particular symbol etched into the rock wall near where the river spills out…Lake Hylia.” 

His eyes widened. “Of course. Lake Hylia. There used to be a Zora colony there.” 

“What are you looking for at Lake Hylia?” Nabooru asked, curious. 

“Not what,” he corrected. “Who. There’s someone I need to track down. They have information I need.” 

She chuckled. “Seems a lot of people these days are being sought after. This mystery person of yours, your forest friend…Princess Zelda.” 

Sheik paused, knowing that Nabooru was looking for a reaction. “Ganondorf has driven many into hiding,” he said, avoiding her gaze. “Yourself included.” 

“Indeed,” she agreed, sharp eyes watching his face carefully. “It will be a long journey to Lake Hylia. You should leave as soon as possible.” 

“I leave tomorrow,” he replied, stuffing the tome into his pack. “At first light.” 

Nabooru stood and stretched, sighing contentedly. “So be it. I’ll make a fire.” 

She left the room, leaving behind the lantern. Sheik gazed into the cool blue light for several moments, contemplating his next move. He had to find the entrance to the Water Temple as soon as possible. If not, the Zoras were doomed. 

He leaned forward, grabbing the lantern from its perch. Opening the glass door, he blew out the blue flame, dousing the room in darkness. 

**~oOo~**

_Death Mountain Trail_

With the sun low in the sky, the narrow passage that snaked up Hyrule’s tallest peak was checkered with patches of light and shadow. Slants of light would cut through their path, touching all but the deepest crevices. It was to one of these natural slivers in the rock that Impa marched to. 

“This will work perfectly,” she announced. 

“For what?” Dark asked skeptically, peering into the crack in the mountain. As far as he could see, a rockslide had torn a chunk out of previously undisturbed stone, leaving a shallow cave. 

“For the technique I must teach you,” Impa snapped. Her patience had worn thin on their hike up Death Mountain. He was more than a little aggravating, even for her. 

He shrugged, crossing his arms and waiting for her to impart her wisdom. 

Impa sighed. “This skill requires not only an affinity for the element, but deep concentration and patience.” 

“Don’t all skills require that?” he asked mockingly. She struck him, hard and fast, across the face. Surprised, he touched a hand to his cheek, then chuckled. “Well then,” he said. “You have my attention.” 

Her lips curled upwards. “At long last. As I said, this skill requires concentration, something I’m not sure you possess.” 

Dark chuckled. “Trust me. I have plenty.” 

Her brow rose, her grin more than a little mocking. “Good luck, then.” 

She instructed him to stand at the mouth of the cave, his boots just outside the shadow cast by the crevice. At her command, he closed his eyes and summoned every bit of magic he had left. Magic coursed through his veins within seconds of his call; this part had always come easily to him. Fierce had claimed it took some magic users up to several minutes to even call upon their gift. 

“Excellent,” Impa murmured, clearly impressed. 

He smirked. “Told you. Good concentration.” 

She gave him one of her calculating looks, as if she was concluding something about him that only she was privy to. It annoyed him. 

He asked, “What now?” 

“I suspect this next part will come simply to you,” she predicted. “However, it is not without risks.” 

“You choose now to tell me that this technique is dangerous?” 

“But extremely useful,” she countered. “The Sheikah have used it for centuries. And for this you must use that part of you—the part that belongs to Shadow.” 

Dark shivered, unwilling to let himself be taken over again by the tainted energy. She sensed his hesitation, assuring him that it was not dark magic. Still resistant, he did as she asked and sought out the unfamiliar energy. 

“It cannot control you,” she explained. “You control it. The force you feel acting upon your body is its attempts to change you to a non-corporeal form.” 

“A what!?” he asked, panicked. “Non-corporeal form? You want me to let it destroy my physical body?” 

“It does not destroy,” she said sharply. “Shadow magic is not about destruction. It acts in the opposite way of Light; it is about change.” 

“Change?” he repeated, his voice still shaky. He cursed under his breath. Swallowing his rising fear proved to be difficult when he felt the Shadow magic consuming him, pushing in on him. The pressure was suffocating. His body suddenly felt too heavy, too restrictive. Everything was pressing in on him; the rock walls squeezed in, the air constricted around him. Even the sky was no longer a limitless space. It was a ceiling that was several feet too low. 

Impa’s voice blessedly cut through the overwhelming pressure. “Shadow allows us to change what Light preserves. If you learn this, you will be able to bend the laws of the natural world. The easiest form to alter is yourself.” 

“How do I do that?” he asked, his voice coming out in a wheeze as if the air really was crushing his lungs rather than sustaining them. 

“Let go,” she urged. “Release yourself from your corporeal form. Your body is needed only in the physical world. Where you want to go, where Shadow wants to take you…your body does not belong.” 

His control loosened its tight grip. Electricity crackled in his veins, and he felt heat surge through him as the magic amped up. That suffocating pressure ceased, and a sigh escaped him. It was such a relief to let go of everything. So easy. She was right; his body was a burden he had cast off and left behind. He had form, thanks to the magic circling through him, but he was free. 

The power made him feel as wild and dangerous as a storm. The weightlessness made him feel lightheaded. When his eyes opened, he was amazed. He wasn’t looking at the earth. He wasn’t looking through physical eyes. 

Above him, the sky just didn’t end. Every imaginable hue of blue colored it, like the most breathtaking painting he could imagine. Surrounding him was air, sparkling and magnificent—he was inside the center of a diamond. Death Mountain had transformed before him. Her center glowed crimson, pulsing like a heartbeat. Red strands of light from the mountain’s heart, like veins, extended down into the earth. Shadows in the rock became darker, softer. Places where the sun touched were simply grey, lighter shadows. They were beautiful, pounding in time with the mountain’s heartbeat. 

Nothing stood still. Everything was in a constant state of transformation. It hit him then; he was no longer on the physical plane. The place he now dwelled was in the shadows. 

With childlike delight, he explored the unending space. It felt like he was flying; wherever he wanted to go, suddenly he was there. Everything was faster, brighter, more colorful and more exciting in comparison to the mundane, physical world. 

But like a rude awakening from a spectacular dream, the physical world imposed itself on him. Something like gravity slammed him back into his body so forcefully he felt winded. The beautiful world he’d been in vanished, to be replaced by ordinary blue sky, dull rock and blinding sunlight. 

“What…?” He felt dizzy. The sun was too bright. 

A clapping sound reminded him of Impa’s presence. “Very well done,” she commended him. “The first time is always the hardest. You did well.” 

Dark groaned and tried to sit up. He was shocked when he couldn’t. He felt like he was weighed down. 

“Don’t move,” she advised. “This feeling will fade soon. It will get easier to come back with more practice.” 

He sighed, exhausted. If he wasn’t already lying down, he’d collapse. 

She knelt next to him, her arms crossed. Her finger tapped thoughtfully against her bicep. “You used up all your magic,” she said. “I’m astounded you’re still conscious.” 

Managing a weak chuckle, Dark found the energy to lift his head before he blacked out completely. 

********** **

It was easier than he’d expected to break in. The few short weeks of training Impa had put him through had taken more of a toll. But practice was one thing; this time, the entire operation depended on his success. The guards who patrolled and oppressed Kakariko under Ganondorf’s orders were dwindling in numbers. However, working by herself, it had taken Impa years to accomplish, even skilled as she was. The pair of men standing sentry in front of the armory were huge. Giant, muscular behemoths from the desert province. They had been brought up to be ruthless raiders from the time they could crawl. They answered only to the Gerudo. 

From his vantage point on a nearby rooftop, Dark could see the organized patrol circling the building and surrounding area. The storehouse contained more than weapons and armor. It held much of the resources they had taken from the villagers—resources they badly needed back. The drought had spread north, and it threatened the farms annexed to the village. 

He hummed quietly, waiting for his signal from Impa. Flat on his belly, he only let the top of his head be visible. Lucky his dark hair blended in. To his left, Link was hunched low. His fair hair shone like a fairy’s wings—a dead giveaway. 

“Is it time?” he asked in a whisper. 

“Not yet. Wait…” Dark peered into the blackness, seeking the blinking blue light he’d spotted to the northwest. The glow from Navi’s wings. Impa’s signal. 

“We’re a go,” he murmured. He tightened the strap fastened around his chest, and the sword at his back pressed more securely against his body. Patting his boot, he reassured himself that a hidden dagger was carefully tucked away. “Five minutes,” he reminded Link. “No more.” 

He nodded in response, taking Dark’s position as rooftop lookout. Dark scurried to the edge of the roof, shimmying down the pipe until his feet touched ground. It was now a simple thing for him to call upon his magic and melt into the darkness, re-entering the murky, mystical world of shadow. He was now adept at using the shadows around him to move from one place to another, using anything he could to travel unseen. The sliver of a lamppost, the wide square of a building acted as markers that kept him from drifting aimlessly in the black. 

What had proved to be challenging was not just abandoning his corporeal body for a time, but dissolving it into shadow as well. In the shadow world, it presented itself as a weight he carried with him and could manifest again in the physical world. He slid between the sentries and into the shadow cast by the door. Once inside, he crept to a quiet corner and let himself be drawn back. Managing to stay conscious and able-bodied this time, Dark hid behind some crates and counted the adversaries in the storehouse. 

Two above, three below. Nothing too difficult. Impa had warned him not to use fire, so instead he summoned the smoky orb to his palm once more. He closed his fist, willing it to separate. When his hand opened, three smaller orbs presented themselves. Sighting his targets, he hurled all three towards the men on the ground floor. It was their bad luck that they had broken formation and stood close together. 

“Gotcha,” he muttered, watching as all three dropped to the ground without so much as a gasp. The wonder of shadow magic was its stealth and efficiency. Of course, it alerted their friends upstairs. 

A man’s voice drifted down from above him. “What was that?” he asked in alarm. 

Boots thudded on wood, and the remaining two guards appeared several feet to his left. 

“Where are you?” the first man asked, drawing a sword. Dark was sure it could cleave him in two. 

Quietly, Dark unsheathed his own weapon, one hand on his boot just in case. The two guards continued to search for him, knocking aside crates and throwing aside bags of grain. The second man let out a growl of frustration when they still couldn’t locate him. When they drew too close, he slipped away, just out of reach. 

A loud bang from outside caused him to jump in surprise. Accidentally, he jostled a crate of apples. He swore, knowing the sound caught the guards’ attention. 

“Over here!” the second man shouted. 

Dark leapt from his hiding place, meeting the sword of the first man. His opponent grinned maliciously, no doubt imagining skinning him with that massive sword. 

“There you are,” he grunted, taking a swing. It was powerful, but clumsy. He was quick enough to avoid it. The behemoth reached for him again; Dark stumbled backwards, quickly finding himself backed into a corner. “Now I’ve got you.” His opponent grimaced, bracing his weapon to run him through. 

The blade’s point never made contact. Rather than spearing through flesh, it met hard wood. Dark watched the man’s confusion from the shadows. Just in time, he melted into the darkness, his corporeal body safe from harm. While the guard was preoccupied scratching his head, he slithered to the warehouse door. Now came the tricky part. 

His ghost fingers stretched towards the obstruction, barely brushing the cool metal of the heavy lock. The storehouse was kept locked, from the inside, at all times. It was always patrolled. But they had to get inside; once they did, they had the advantage. 

“What the…?” 

The guard’s voice, raised in alarm. He chuckled, knowing how odd it must be to see nothing but two hands levitating before the door, picking the lock that held it closed. Dark’s trick was draining, however. Splitting himself between planes was dangerous, as Impa had warned. He began to feel his stores of magic seeping away, leaving his body weak. 

The lock dropped to the ground with a dull clang. His will wavered and Dark was pulled from the shadows, becoming visible to the guard once more. 

“There you are!” 

To his surprise, the guard made no move to attack, but pulled a carved object from his belt, raising it to his lips. His cheeks puffed as he blew into the horn, the sound of it long and low, reverberating through the large space and beyond. Covering his ears, Dark groaned as the note pounded through his skull. 

His friend, unaffected by the horn’s volume, regarded him. The man sneered. “This place will be crawling with my men in moments,” he announced. “You’ve no chance.” 

His head pounding, he raised his head, reaching back to place one hand on the door’s heavy wooden handle. “I’d say you’re the one with no chance,” he remarked, and threw the door wide. 

The giant’s jeering expression froze as a swarm filled the warehouse like bees reclaiming their hive. Impa had many friends in Kakariko, and they were angry. And armed, thanks to a secret cache in the graveyard the blacksmith had discovered. 

It didn’t take long. By the time the sun rose over the mountainside village, Kakariko was free of her burdens. Impa quickly busied herself with the management of the storehouse contents, the organization of her vigilante fighters and capture of any surviving guards loyal to Ganondorf. 

In the flurry of activity it wasn’t difficult for Dark to disappear, no magic tricks needed. Walking out onto the cobblestone road, he turned north, shielding his eyes from the insistent morning glare to his right. The street inevitably led him to Kakariko’s landmark windmill, turning steadily onwards as it greeted the new day. He bypassed the well, climbing the stone steps before the structure. They had been carved into the hillside with great care, winding back and forth as they guided him to the top. 

Looking back, he admired settlement’s quiet charm. The village had always held some air of melancholy. It had survived through years of Hyrule’s history—wars, calamities, raids, drought, sickness, strife. And yet it stood, quiet and wise, like an old soldier waiting for his next battle, knowing it could be the last. The canyon walls encircled it, cradling it close to its guardian mountain. 

He released a sigh, turning to continue his trek. As far removed as it was, it had been the least affected by Ganondorf’s influence. But even this simple corner of the world had been touched by its grief. When he arrived at the tall border fence behind the mill, he stopped. Standing sentry at its gate, he gazed out at the prairie northeast of the village. 

“I wonder what’s out there.” 

He nearly jumped out of his skin he was so startled. Whipping around, he shouldn’t have been surprised to see Link, who had clearly followed him from the warehouse. He braced himself against the fence, letting his heart rate slow to normal. 

“Why do you ask?” he asked. 

Link shrugged. “I’ve always been curious. I’ve never been that way before.” 

Dark shook his head. “There’s not much. You can only travel a few miles east through forest before you reach Termina’s border. And north…” He paused. 

“What’s north?” Link prompted. 

“Nothing,” he replied. “Not anymore. Keep going north and you’ll find the mountain pass. It trails straight along the border, dividing Snowhead’s range from Death Mountain’s.” 

He was still talking when Link walked towards the nearest fence post and started scaling it. He’d reached the top and swung a leg over to the other side before Dark said something. 

“What in Din’s name are you doing!?” 

The blond grinned down at him, stretching a helping hand towards him. “Exploring.” 

Feeling a little resistant, he still allowed himself to be pulled up next to him and followed him down the other side. They set off on foot, following the ridge as a guide. Eventually it curved away, giving way to flat grassland. The steady pounding of rushing water could be heard to the west; a river that found its source in Death Mountain’s peaks flowed over the high ridge, cresting in a small waterfall and feeding a small creek beneath it. 

They followed the creek east as it snaked a trail through a modest valley. Small groves of trees dotted its banks, branches hanging down to dip in the clear water. It wasn’t long before the edge of a forest could be spotted on the horizon. The pair halted when Link noticed a stone bridge built over the water, weathered with age but still sturdy. 

As he went over to study it, Dark looked hastily away. Too easily his eyes caught the remains of a paddock fence resting gently in the grass, the remains of a stone water well, crumbled into the earth. His mind was too quick to reimagine narrow streets, modest wooden homes, stables and stores. He could see the inhabitants of a village that once was, hear the sounds of a simple farming village calling from the past. 

“There must have been a village here.” Link’s voice roused him, shaking him free from his memories. 

“There was.” His voice was hollow, haunted. 

Link picked up on it immediately. “Dark?” 

He sighed. There was no use in hiding it. “This village was my home. I was born here.” 

A hand rested on his shoulder. He was surprised, but didn’t flinch away. “What happened?” Link asked, his voice kind. 

Dark knelt, wresting a piece of wood from the dirt’s clutches. Even with all the time that had passed, it still bore the marks of fire. “It was burned to the ground,” he replied hollowly. 

“By Ganondorf.” 

He didn’t need to affirm Link’s guess. 

“I am sorry,” he said, fingers squeezing Dark’s shoulder. 

They continued to search the remains, though there wasn’t much. It wasn’t until they reached a nearby grove of trees that they found something interesting. It was a larger gathering of trees, separate from the forest, sheltering a modest-sized clearing. Inside, to Dark’s surprise, was dotted with a number of white markers. Made of stone, they were perfectly cylindrical and purest white. Each appeared to be carved. With a lurch of his stomach, he realized what they must be even before Link read the inscription on the nearby sign. 

“The residents of Tellura are resting peacefully here. May their spirits be with the Goddesses,” Link recited, raising his head to examine the nearest stone pillar. “They’re graves.” He traced the Hylian characters carved into the rock. “Unusual markers, though, huh? Dark?” 

Seeing that his dark-haired friend stood unmoving before a headstone a few rows up, Link straightened and joined him. “Someone you know?” he asked. 

Dark sank to his haunches before the grave, biting the fleshy part of his thumb sharply. “Yes,” he mumbled his reply. 

Link bent to read the inscription. 

_Naron _

_Beloved husband, father and son. _

_Brave warrior of Hyrule and soldier in service of His Majesty_

Dark pressed a palm to the stone, warmed by the sun. His breath suddenly came in short gasps. “My…father,” he forced out, his eyes seeking Link’s. “Your…” 

Link held his shoulders, urging him to stand. “It’s all right,” he said, concern for his friend stitched across his features. “It’s all right.” 

Dark bent forward, resting his forehead against Link’s shoulder for solace. Finding nothing suitable to say, Link responded by putting his arms around Dark’s broad shoulders. He had lost many things in the past seven years, but he could only imagine the agony of losing a beloved parent. Link had never had to face the pain of losing them; he’d never truly had them. 

Long moments passed before they separated. Dark didn’t speak again as they turned towards the village, leaving the people of Tellura to their peaceful rest.


	34. Revived

An unseasonable chill battered the vast plain. Summer was already nipping at the heels of spring, yet the trees had not bloomed, the grass had not grown. The once vibrant, green rolling hills were dusty, brown humps of earth that sloped sadly towards the Lake Hylia valley. Hyrule’s southwestern corner had been renowned for its beauty. 

Sheik had hardened his heart to the sorrowful sight. It was easier to bear that way. 

Thanks to the efforts of Nabooru’s fastest horse, he had crossed the desert with haste. Crossing the canyon had presented no challenge, thanks to the Gerudo captain’s unspoken permission. He had almost reached Lake Hylia, his destination. 

As his mount crested the last hill and the sapphire surface of the water came into view, he smiled. Behind the mask of Sheik, Zelda felt a pang of sadness. She had been to Lake Hylia only once before, as a young girl. She remembered fondly the lush valley, sheltered by the high, grey cliffs. The lake was Hyrule’s deepest, and the water was clear as glass. On the best of days, the distant lakebed could be seen from the bridges that crisscrossed above it. 

To her dismay, the water level had dropped alarmingly, the shore dried and cracked by the sun. It reached longingly into the near hollow basin, unable to quench its thirst. Most of the rivers in the south and Ordon province were fed by the lake, which meant the shortage was likely severe if the lake had drained this much. 

Sheik dismounted next to lakeside house, one of the only structures near the lake. As a protected site, by both the crown and the Zoras, Lake Hylia was free of permanent residents and frequent visitors. The scientist who lived in the lakeside laboratory had obtained permission to study the lake, and was an exception. As far as he could tell, the house had been untouched, as had the wooden bridges that connected the small island in the center of the body of water to the shore. 

Leaving his horse, Sheik walked down to the stone pillars standing at the edge of the water. Six in total, they thrust out of the shallows, several feet higher than he was tall. Destroyed long ago in one of Hyrule’s bloody wars, they stood as a testament to the Zora colony that had inhabited the area. Standing in the center of the pillars, he looked towards the lake. The small island was the focal point, the large, dead tree that grew there catching his eye. 

His quest to find the Water Temple had been frustrating to say the least. The discovery of the Forest Temple’s location had been pure luck; his steps had been guided by Saria, the Sage of the forest. Darunia had also been around to divulge the location of the temple to Link. Unfortunately, the Sage of the next element—Water—was nowhere to be found. His search of Zora’s domain had turned up nothing, and he hadn’t the faintest idea how to melt red ice in order to interrogate the king of the aquatic race. 

The library in the Desert Colossus had, at last, proved fruitful. The location was Lake Hylia; that was certain. Somehow, the clever Zoras had hidden their temple in the depths of the lake. 

The question now was: how did he reach it? 

**~oOo~**

Sienna considered the ripe, red globe in her palm. The freshly picked apple smelled sharp and sweet, the sunlight caressing it as if to claim it. Humming in satisfaction, she plucked three more from the stall and placed them in her shopping basket. Paying the shopkeeper, she thanked him before moving on to another vendor. 

The market in Kakariko was delightful. The enticing smells and the heat of the sun had lured her out of the stuffy house. Now that the dark cloud of Ganondorf’s influence had left, however, the people were friendlier, feeling free to go out on the streets at all hours. Long into the night villagers frequented the pubs, letting their celebration be heard. The commotion had woken her some nights, but Dark had quickly soothed her back to sleep. Finding him awake didn’t surprise her anymore; he rarely slept deeply, and when he did, he woke shaking and cold. 

A warm set of hands encircled her waist, accompanied by a bristly chin on her neck and a curved mouth next to her ear. 

“For me?” a deep, velvet voice inquired. One hand reached out and plucked one of the newly bought apples. The lips brushing her ear moved to take a crunchy bite of the fruit. With a laugh, she peeked over her shoulder in time to see Dark wipe the juice from his mouth. “Mmm,” he said in approval. “Delicious.” 

“Glad you like it,” she replied, amused by his blissful look as he continued to gnaw on the apple. “What kept you?” 

He swallowed, waving the core around as he spoke, “Link. We were training.” 

“Mm-hm.” Sienna watched him toss the stripped apple core into a compost box the vendor had set up. Slipping an arm around her waist again, he steered her towards the center of the square. When he started to give her a detailed account of Link’s progress as a fighter and his own using Impa’s shadow technique, Sienna had to stop him. “Dark.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been training with Link every day, all day since we’ve arrived.” 

Seeing her apologetic expression, he stopped and took her hand, guiding her to one of the wooden benches huddled against the side of a building. “I’m sorry,” he told her when they’d sat. 

She flapped a hand dismissively. “It’s important,” she said, “Forget I said anything.” 

“It is,” he agreed. “But so are you.” 

She smiled, resting one hand on his thigh. “He’s your brother, Dark. Of course you want to spend time with him.” 

Suddenly defensive, he said, “That’s not why I’m training him.” 

She laughed. “You can deny it all you want. But you like spending time with him.” 

Dark shrugged. “Doesn’t make much of a difference.” 

“Impa told me there’d be a party tomorrow night. For the whole village; there’ll be food and drinks and dancing…” she trailed off, her eyes dreamy. It’d been too long since she’d had a break from real life. With a grimace, she remembered their time spent as Gerudo captives. It hadn’t improved matters. 

“Sounds like fun.” 

“You can spend the entire time with Link, if you like,” she teased. “But promise me at least one dance.” 

With a smile, he leaned down to plant a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll promise you at least half a dozen.” 

She made a sound of contentment, her fingers tracing patterns over the lean muscles of his thigh. He growled with pleasure, tilting his head to kiss her lips. His fingers slid across her neck, his thumb stroking her soft cheek. 

Aware of the public forum, Sienna regretfully freed herself from his arms. Groaning in disappointment, he reluctantly stood. Graciously picking up her discarded basket, he offered her his arm. Taking it, she rose so they could finish the shopping. She wanted to be well stocked in case they left unexpectedly. 

She didn’t think Dark would leave Kakariko without his long-lost brother, but she knew Link had his own agenda. Dark had agreed to train him, but he wasn’t in a hurry to leave. From what he’d told her, Link was at a bit of a dead end. As she looked around the village and the revived, optimistic faces of the townspeople, she thought perhaps it was a blessing that Link’s quest had been put on pause. 

“There’s one thing we should do before the festivities tomorrow,” Dark said, rousing her attention. 

“What’s that?” she asked, curious. 

He grinned, and directed her attention to a tailor shop across the road. “We really should get you a new dress.” 

**~oOo~**  
_Hyrule Castle_

Rigid with tension, her body taut in preparation of an impending attack, Imara kept up her usual brisk pace. Stoically, she stared down the hallway, its richly carpeted floor cushioning the steps of her feet. The sconces on the wall were unlit, plunging the corridor into blackness. The rooms and halls in this wing of the castle were kept dark nowadays; the king suffered from debilitating migraines of late, and shunned any small light. 

Now, apparently recovered, he had summoned her. His deteriorating condition had not gone unnoticed by his subjects, however. The Gerudo stationed at the castle talked in whispers, doubting their once fearsome leader—and whether he truly held the power he said he did. 

Coming to a halt before the great doors of the throne room, she glanced left and right. The habitual guards were absent, arousing her suspicions. A knock on the door received no response from inside. Defenses raised, Imara pushed hard on the heavy door, carved with the Hylian crest. What she saw left her thunderstruck. 

The room was empty. 

The hall was shadowed, rectangular patches of faint, blue moonlight piercing the darkness between the columns. Cautiously, she advanced towards the unoccupied throne, her steps echoing off the smooth stone floor and through the massive pillars. She stopped just before the raised dais on which the throne of Hyrule sat. Above it, the great monument extended towards the ceiling: a representation of the three goddesses, guarding the sacred treasure they had bestowed upon the Hylians. 

Imara studied the face of the goddess at the very top, hands resting on the topmost triangle. Din. The features of the stature were vague; it wasn’t meant to be accurate. She wondered whether the goddess so revered by the Gerudo people would look down upon them with the same benevolence as her depiction here. 

Somewhere behind the throne, someone howled in agony. The sound echoed through the chamber, ringing in Imara’s ears. 

She called out as she darted behind the dais, “Who’s there?” 

In answer there was another howl; someone was in immense pain. Her eyes fell on a wall hanging on the back wall. Behind the throne was a private area for prayer. The hanging appeared to be purely decorative, but the orange outline of light gave away its secret: there was a room hidden behind it. 

Another scream sounded as she gripped the loose fabric and ripped it from the wall. 

The breath left her lungs. 

“You must persist, my lord,” a calm voice commanded softly. “It is working.” 

Imara, stunned, watched her sovereign as he lay on the hard floor, his body contorted from pain, his fingers clutching at the heavy shroud covering him. “Alatar,” he rasped, bloodshot eyes seeking the other man in the room. 

Her gaze darted to the thin old vulture circling her king. His voice didn’t waver as he reassured Ganondorf that the pain would soon pass. Around the Gerudo leader’s form a circle had been drawn, illuminated by magical flames in every corner of the room. The fires burned eternally, responding only to the wizard standing opposite her. 

At last acknowledging her presence, the dark magic user raised his head. Clear, intelligent eyes the color of cold seas loomed out of a face reminiscent of a Stalfos. The skin was too pale, too sickly. His frame was all bones and no muscle, his heavy robe hanging rather than draping. His thin lips narrowed further, making his appearance more like that of an animated skull. 

“May I help you?” he asked softly, his voice deceptively invitational. 

Imara glanced down at Ganondorf, hunched into a ball and groaning quietly as the invisible spell consumed him. 

“He is healing,” the wizard said, his cool green eyes still on her. 

“Healing?” she repeated in disbelief. 

As if on command, Ganondorf relaxed, his limbs unfurling so he lay on his back. She bit back a gasp. The man had been ill the past several weeks. He’d looked to be on death’s doorstep. Now, Imara was looking at a complete rejuvenation. His face had returned to its healthy bronze color, his cheekbones were less pronounced and his eyes were no longer plagued by dark circles. With a sigh, he rose to his feet, limber and strong. 

He addressed the wizard, “Thank you, Alatar.” 

“My lord,” the vulture replied, bowing graciously. 

She took a step back as Lord Ganondorf turned to her. His features held a new arrogance and his attitude was confident and commanding. Fingers gripped her arm with newfound strength, startling her. The muscle mass he had lost during his sickness had returned—and doubled. She was in no doubt that he could crush every bone in her arm. 

“Imara,” he purred her name, his expression steel as he held her. “How many do you have at your disposal?” 

“For what purpose, my lord?” she asked nervously. 

A golden glow was reflected in his eyes, drawing her attention to the fist that bruised her. On the back of his hand, a small shape glowed darkly, pulsing with the promise of horrific power. 

Ganondorf chuckled. “Takes as many troops as you need. You have a week to ready them.” With a look of sudden disgust, he freed her arm, shoving her aside as he exited the small room. 

Righting herself, she hurried after him. “My lord?” 

Sighing with contentment, he reclined in the throne, stretching his legs before him and flexing his fingers. “I have a job for you, Imara.” 

Terrified, both of his perversion of magic in order to restore his fading power and the unfamiliar coldness in his gaze, she knelt before him, pressing her knees and palms to the cool, unforgiving floor. “Yes, my lord.” Her voice cracked. 

Ganondorf had always been ruthless, willing to risk any measure to secure his victory. It had endeared him to his Gerudo people, who had seen him as a beacon of change, a leader who could bring them into a plentiful life. 

She peeked at the fresh bruise encircling her bicep. Not once had she witnessed him lay a hand on one of his own. Never had he harmed one of his people, nor punished a subject who did not deserve it. A frigid blast of fear coiled around her body, a warning. Whatever their leader had done, he was no longer the same. 

She could not trust him. 

Ganondorf’s eyes narrowed. “In a fortnight, Imara, you will march on Kakariko.”


	35. In Search of Cold Flame

For a modest, two-storey structure built of abused brick and sporting windows that had seen more than their fair share of patching up, Kakariko’s library housed invaluable public records, documents and books relating to the town’s history. 

Link and Navi waited patiently on the front steps, baking in the morning sun. Accustomed to rising early, Link didn’t feel tired at the sight of the sunrise. He’d wanted to get to the library before his scheduled sparring session with Impa, and he felt confident the house of knowledge could point him in the right direction when it came to the plight of the Zoras. 

After a few minutes of waiting, he was surprised to see Fayne, Impa’s friend, come trotting up the road. Around his age, she was one of Kakariko’s only magically gifted residents. She’d been a key player in Impa’s growing rebellion forces. With a toss of her blonde head, she smiled brightly at him. 

“Link! So sorry, were you waiting to get in?” 

He stood, brushing off his pants before replying, “Yeah, I was hoping…” 

“I can help!” she interrupted excitedly, moving to unlock the door. With a whoosh of her small hand, the spell securing the door vanished, and she threw the door open. “Come on in!” 

It wasn’t much more impressive on the inside, and dreadfully untidy. There seemed to be no semblance of organization. 

“What a mess,” Navi remarked. 

Rather than be offended, Fayne said, “Oh, I know. I’m a terrible housekeeper. But I promise I can help you find what you’re looking for.” She glanced at Link shyly, her face turning pink above her cute smile. “Um…what is it you’re looking for?” 

“Ah, I was hoping I could find out if there was a way to melt magical ice,” he explained, wondering if that sounded right. 

Fayne brightened again. “Of course! Right here…somewhere…” She began rifling through a sturdy little bookcase that had the words “magic and spells” emblazoned on a plaque. 

While she searched, Link perused some of the other volumes with interest. Navi floated over to a plaque on the wall next to the door, reading aloud the name of the library and its founders. She announced the date the library opened and turned to Fayne with interest. 

“So long ago,” she exclaimed, “This library is that old?” 

The young sorceress straightened, turning to give them an impromptu history lesson. 

“Why, yes. The village has been here for centuries. Of course, it’s been destroyed many times in Hyrule’s wars and then rebuilt. But this place has stood the test of time.” 

She gazed around fondly. “In this room is the second biggest collection of historical documents in all of Hyrule,” she said proudly. “And quite possibly it holds the most information on the village’s founders, the Sheikah.” 

Perking up at the mention of the Sheikah, Link opened his mouth to ask what she knew about the mysterious race, but Navi said, “Have you found anything on melting red ice?” 

“Red ice?” Fayne asked, sidetracked. “Oh! Yes, right here.” She seized a thin, leather-bound volume off the shelf, flipping it open to a bookmarked page. “Red ice,” she recited, “is a magical spell designed to imprison. It cannot be melted or damaged, even by the strongest spells. The only known way to dispel it is through the use of the cold flame—blue fire.” 

“Blue fire?” Navi asked skeptically. “It can’t be that easy.” 

“I wouldn’t say it was easy,” she replied. “But everything in magic has an opposite. White magic has black magic, evil spells are defeated by light, and so on.” 

“So all we need is blue fire?” Link asked, as surprised as Navi by the simple-sounding solution. 

Fayne shrugged. “Yes, but it’s not easy to find. You can buy it in some shops, but it’s rare and expensive.” 

“Can we get it anywhere else?” he asked. 

“Deep in the frozen caverns of the Snowpeak mountains,” she replied cheerfully. 

His good mood deflated. Snowpeak meant a near-suicidal trek into a cold wasteland that would take him weeks, if not more. And survival was not guaranteed. 

“There’s nowhere else it can be found?” he asked hopefully. 

The blonde girl considered it, tapping a finger to her lips. “Well, magical fire like that has been found further south, in caves cold enough to sustain it. But it’s not like there’s a map of their locations,” she added hastily, seeing his excited look. 

“Link,” Navi said, flying over to him. “Zoras’ domain, it’s completely frozen now, and there are tons of tunnels and caves there…” 

Following her logic, he said, “The lower temperature might be cold enough that blue fire can be found somewhere inside. Could that happen?” he asked Fayne. 

“Could be. Zoras’ domain is far enough north that it could get cold enough, especially if it has been frozen over.” 

He glanced at his fairy companion. “We need to get back to Zoras’ domain. It’s worth a shot.” 

“We could be ready to leave tomorrow,” she replied. “It’s going to be a long trip.” 

Rushing for the door, he hastily thanked Fayne for her help, leaving her standing among the ancient tomes of Kakariko’s long history. 

The rest of the day passed quickly. After training for long hours with Impa, he returned to her home to pack his things for their departure. This time, he made certain they wouldn’t run out of food or water. Impa knew he was leaving, but he’d promised to stay for the celebrations. He wasn’t yet sure what to say to Dark and Sienna. 

During the weeks he’d spent in Kakariko, he and Dark had sparred near daily. The friendship that had developed between them was something Link realized he had sorely missed. In his new life as the Hero of Time, it could become lonely, isolating. He had Navi as a companion, but the long days of traveling, the hard-fought battles and immense responsibilities that had been thrown on his shoulders had quietly taken their toll. 

His brief reprieves in Goron City and Kakariko had been welcome, but just around the corner, his destiny still beckoned him. Hyrule was still in grave danger, and it was time to return to his journey. 

When night finally blanketed the world, he was almost anxious for the party to start. It would be a fair send off before he set out for Zoras’ domain. 

“Ready to leave?” Impa’s calm voice asked from the doorway. 

He straightened, abandoning his packing for the moment. “Just about,” he told her. 

She nodded in silent approval. “I feel certain you will free the Zoras, and find the Sage of Water,” she said. 

He nearly blushed at her confidence in him. “I’ll do what I can,” he mumbled. 

Impa’s deep, crimson eyes rested on him for a heavy moment, once again pulling his hidden feelings to the surface. Her gaze flickered to the hilt of the Master Sword, resting patiently against the wall near his things, awaiting its master. 

“You still doubt yourself,” she stated, sounding almost surprised. Her eyes remained locked on the sword. Link shifted uncomfortably. 

“At times,” he admitted quietly. “I feel…not quite lost. Unsure, somehow. As if I’m not living up to my title.” 

Impa chuckled. “If the gods are watching you, boy, I’m sure they do not feel disappointed. The task you have been set would break most.” 

Crossing the room, Impa reached down and carefully picked up the Master Sword by its sheath. She held it out to him, offering him the hilt. Slowly, he wrapped his fingers around his weapon, pulling it out holding it out in front of him. 

“That sword does not doubt you,” she told him. “It knows who you are.” 

He studied his reflection in the blade, contemplating her words. His brow was creased in a frown, his mouth set grimly. As if in response to his feelings, the sword began to glow with a soft blue light. 

“I hear it…” he searched for the right word, “speak to me. But that can’t be true, can it?” 

He looked up from the blade’s surface to find a peculiar expression on Impa’s face. A mixture of curiosity and disbelief gave way to a rare smile. 

“It remembers you,” she said to him. “The sword recognizes the spirit of the Hero.” 

******** **

A couple of hours before the night’s celebrations, Dark found himself lazing about behind the windmill. It was peaceful, sunny, and there was no one to disturb him. With Sienna at Impa’s getting ready, there wasn’t much for him to do. 

When the clouds overtook the sky and robbed him of his sunlight, he sat up with a groan. 

Abandoning his secluded spot, he wandered back into town, eventually meandering down an unfamiliar street. 

He came across a wide vendor’s stall with a generous awning. Behind the stall the shop was simply an open space, a well-stocked workshop taking up one side, and a large kiln dominating the back. The enormous form of Taver the smith was bent in front of it, his face protected from the heat by a metal mask. Over the roar of the superheated oven, Dark could hear the blacksmith singing to himself as he worked. 

The black-haired youth considered the borrowed sword lashed to his hip, then mentally calculated the money he had on hand. It wasn’t optimal, but perhaps he could convince the blacksmith to cut him a deal. He’d planned to leave Kakariko the day after tomorrow, and he’d need a reliable weapon on the way back to Termina. 

Sienna had been shocked when he’d told her of his plans, but there was nothing for them in Kakariko, and he was anxious to get back. He didn’t much like the idea of leaving Link behind, but he had his own responsibilities. Fierce had warned him to stay away, and Dark figured he’d already helped his brother as much as he could. Besides, putting distance between himself and Ganondorf could only be good. 

“Excuse me?” he called out, grabbing Taver’s attention. 

“Huh?” the man grunted, fixing sharp eyes on Dark. “Ah, it’s you. C’mere for a second, would you?” 

“Is something wrong?” Dark asked, venturing into the cave-like room. 

It was dim and shady, but pleasantly warm thanks to the fire. The smell of coal clung to everything, including the man towering over him. With a series of grunts that he evidently used in lieu of words, Taver directed him to a nearby crafting table. An unfinished sword lay in wait, its form glowing red with heat. 

“Take these,” Taver instructed, handing him a pair of thick work gloves. “Made from Dodongo skin. Now grab the end.” 

“Are you insane?” 

He laughed, the sound echoing. “Perhaps. You’ll be fine; you’re a strong young lad. The gloves will protect you. I just need an extra set of hands to hold it. Haven’t gotten around to replacing my clamps yet.” 

Wondering what in Din’s name he’d been roped into, Dark gingerly grabbed the malleable, flaming hot end of the unfinished sword. As Taver had said, the gloves kept out the heat. 

Grasping the hot metal was a challenge with the stiff-fingered gloves, but Dark managed to lower the sword into the vat of water, flash-cooling the blade. Wisps of steam hissed out at the sudden change in temperature. Taver grunted in approval as Dark lifted it back onto the work table. Inspecting it, Taver traced one gloved hand over a dent and frowned. 

“Hold on,” Taver warned him, hefting a hammer that looked as if it could crush skulls. “You might feel some vibrations up your arm,” he added with a chuckle. 

Far from amused, Dark clenched the sword tightly, clamping his teeth together in preparation. The blacksmith swung expertly, the head of the hammer smacking down precisely on the blade’s imperfect surface. Dark felt a zing up his arm. He was impressed with Taver’s skill as he tapped the blade a few more times, molding the sword back into shape. 

“A fine job, lad. It’ll make a good sword.” 

He reached up to wipe the sweat from his brow, surprised at the effort it had taken. Even more surprising was his sense of enjoyment. 

“Is that all?” he asked, finding himself hoping he could try tempering a blade next. 

But Taver nodded. “For now. Finishing my work early today, you see.” 

“Of course.” Dark swallowed his disappointment. 

“Was there something you needed, lad?” 

Dark recalled the reason he’d approached the shop to begin with. “I’m hoping you can give me a new sword,” he explained, pulling out the sword he’d borrowed from Impa. “I’d like to have one for myself, and not continue to borrow them.” 

Taver chuckled. “Your own weapon, eh? Normally, I’d suggest you commission me for one, and I’d craft you a unique blade made for you. But it’s costly and time consuming.” 

Dark dismissed that option. “I’ll be more than happy with a previously owned one. I don’t need a new sword made for me. I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.” 

“A shame. You’ve got good hands for this work, and I could use the help. No bother. Follow me!” 

He strode into the back room, Dark on his heels. “I keep the ones in need of repair and the hopeless cases back here,” the swordsmith explained. “Occasionally I find new uses for ‘em.” 

Weapons of every kind and size had been carefully mounted on the walls of Taver’s back room. Some gleamed with newness, ready to be sold or picked up. Others had rusted and gathered dust in what was obviously a reject pile. Taver pushed aside a crate of broken axe heads on the floor and began rummaging around under a work table. 

Dark admired the newly forged swords on another work table, noting that Taver had etched his signature into each one. His work was flawless; every blade had been treated as if it were a piece of art. Tracing a finger along the blunt side of a particularly beautiful sword, his curiosity flared when he noticed the metal was still hot to the touch. Not smoldering, but resonating some kind of inner warmth. 

“Ahh,” Taver said from behind him. “Warm, isn’t it? It’s the metal. Very special, you see. I get it from the Gorons; it’s their specialty. Even though she’s long been removed from Death Mountain’s mines, she never quite loses her fire, hmm?” He laid a large hand on the sword to feel the emanating heat. 

“Remarkable,” Dark replied, curious to know more. 

The Gorons were renowned for their metal work. Living in Kakariko, Taver must have picked up some of their tricks. Dark glanced at him with new admiration for his skill. 

“Do you have any more forged from Goron metal?” he asked, fixated. “Unless, I don't have enough...” he hefted his bag of coins. 

Taver chortled again, his voice booming and hearty in his barrel chest. “Don’t worry about money, lad. Rupees won’t do me and my family much good right now.” He bent and reached under the table, hauling out a long, narrow box. With a heave, he brought it up onto the flat surface for inspection. He looked at Dark, his eyes narrowing in scrutiny. “Tall fellow, aren’t you?” 

Sweeping off the box’s lid, the swordsmith revealed a sword unlike anything he had seen. Dark marveled at it; the mold was unique, flaring at the base and narrowing in the middle, then curving outward again before reaching its point. The hilt bore signs of use, the leather strap circling it frayed, bearing the imprints of fingertips. The weapon’s cross guard wasn’t fashioned in the typical way, sporting a design of golden flames that cupped the base of the sword. Near the bottom, etched into the heated, gleaming metal was Taver’s signature, and the name _Deraphine_. 

“Well, try it out,” the other man encouraged him, freeing the beautiful weapon from its box. 

Dark took _Deraphine_ hesitantly, gripping it in his left hand and flourishing it. Its unusual length and curved form should have made it awkward to swing, but he found it suited him—a natural extension of his longer limbs. The tip had been weighted to balance it, which took some acclimating as he practiced. Due to its wavy shape, it was more difficult to control, but it certainly packed power. 

“I like it.” Dark grinned, practicing a few swings. 

“It’s yours, if you want it,” Taver offered. “Poor _Deraphine_’s been sitting in a box for too long. Never had anyone interested, because it's such an odd weapon.” 

“_Deraphine_.” Dark rolled the name around on his tongue. “Din’s Flame,” he translated. “It suits her.” 

He took the sheath Taver handed him, a lovely crimson in color, and strapped it to his belt. Sheathing his new weapon safely, he thanked Taver and handed him the borrowed sword in exchange. 

“If you change your mind, I’d be glad to give you some employment should you choose to stay.” 

“I appreciate that,” Dark said. “I’ll definitely take you up on it if I change my mind.” 

Taver’s broad smile faded as his gaze rested on the workroom clock. “Better hurry. Don’t want to miss the festivities!” 

He ushered Dark out of the shop, locking up his backroom and tidying his work table. Not wanting to miss meeting Sienna, Dark hurried after the smith on his way to the town square. 

**~oOo~ **

In the dead of night, the desert was a different beast. During the heat of the day, the sun oppressed its golden terrain of barren slopes. The dangers lurking beneath the boiling sands were forgotten at the sight of the desert and her stark, terrifying beauty. But when the sun dropped below the horizon, and night spread its ebony cloak over the land, the wasteland became haunted. 

At nighttime, the ghosts of long-dead brigands and thieves terrorized the desert, screaming their battle cries from ages long past. Hopelessly lost travelers returned to the world, their moans of despair swallowed by the deafening winds. 

The craggy, red rock formations that dotted the landscape transformed into dark, looming giants, hiding the monsters that appeared with the dark. Carrion birds would prowl the mesmerizing, star-filled skies, their screeches, croaks and cries a spine-rattling song that pierced the spirit with anxiety and fear. 

The great Colossus, shadowed as it was, resembled a foreboding prison, the weathered reddish stone making it seem both ageless and ancient; it was impossible to tell from a distance whether it was a mythical temple or a real, solid structure. 

The Goddess of the Sand coldly observed the haunted wasteland through her stone eyes. She sat above the entrance to her domain, legs folded in meditation, hands outstretched in prayer. She was a stone sentinel borne of the temple itself, ever watchful, ever waiting. 

Tonight it was quiet, and the tense quiet of the sandy wastes was something Nabooru had never been fond of. True, the desert was her home and her sanctuary, a place of immense beauty and mystery. But she respected its many dangers. 

The oppressing silence threatened to shatter the mirage of serenity and upset her fragile sense of safety; every small sound put her on edge. 

Peering over her shoulder at the shadowy form of the great statue, she paused in the saddling of her mount; a flicker of movement had caught her eye and set off a mental alarm. 

The mare snorted, pawing the ground anxiously and kicking up sand. Nabooru turned her attention back. Her horse might have been made for desert travel, gracefully built but hardy with wide, strong hooves, but she was no more at ease here than her rider. Nabooru knew as well as any Gerudo that living her whole life in the desert was no guarantee of protection from its threats. 

“Shh,” the Gerudo woman soothed, patting the smooth roan neck. “We’ll be on our way.” 

She’d just hooked her foot in the stirrup and swung her leg over the mare’s back when a sudden wind assaulted them, blowing grains of sand into her eyes and obscuring her vision. Exclaiming in annoyance, Nabooru reached for her neck and secured the kerchief tied there around her nose and mouth. It wouldn’t do much for sand in the eyes, but she could avoid having grit between her teeth. 

With a nudge of Nabooru’s heels her horse took off in a canter, each wary of unseen threats. Hiding out at the Colossus was no longer wise, and as it was, she had promised Sheik her aid. She intended to skirt the fortress and travel the more treacherous route through the canyon until she reached Lake Hylia. There was less of a chance of being spotted by Ganondorf’s spies that way. 

In the oppressing darkness, the Gerudo was unaware of the two cloaked figures circling above her like birds of prey. They both swooped low, reaching out to snatch her from the horse’s back. 

With a startled cry, Nabooru was wrenched from the saddle and carried off in the direction she had come. Sounds of struggle echoed in the darkness, unheard in the emptiness of the land. 

Panicked by the abrupt vanishing of her rider, the mare bolted, the thundering of her hooves muted on the grey sand as she raced through the uneasy night.


	36. Snowpeak Passage

“It’s so beautiful!” Sienna exclaimed. 

Clad in a borrowed dress from Fayne—a short-sleeved garment with a flowing skirt the color of lavender—Sienna admired the transformation of Kakariko’s market square. The vendors’ stalls and shops that had lined it had been converted into tables for the food or moved aside to make room for long wooden benches. 

In the center, next to the fountain, a group of villagers with musical talent had gathered with any instruments they had left. The lively songs now floating in the air encouraged early dancers out into the square, their feet tapping on the stones in time with the rhythm. 

Above the heads of those celebrating, a lattice of lights had been strung, connecting at the roof of every house on the outskirts of the square. They twinkled merrily alongside the torches, changing color every few seconds. 

“Do you like them?” asked Fayne, standing at Sienna’s elbow. 

“I love them!” 

“Festive,” Dark murmured, knowing the women weren’t listening to him. 

While Sienna chatted with Fayne, he scanned the crowd. He’d noticed Link sulking in the corner, sitting by himself. The blue fairy occasionally peeked out from under his hat. Dark shook his head; he couldn’t have put on something other than the green tunic? And that ludicrous hat! 

Kissing Sienna on the cheek, he made a determined beeline for the sullen blond. Without asking, he sat down next to Link, tossing an arm casually about his shoulders. 

“Not enjoying the party?” he asked. 

Link shrugged. “It’s not something I’m used to,” he confided. “Besides I wouldn’t know what to do,” he added with a laugh. 

Dark snorted. “It’s a party. You dance with the girls, you eat the food, you dance some more, you kiss someone under the stars…” He gestured dramatically with his free arm, gazing up at the starry canvas. 

Link chuckled nervously. “Who would I kiss under the stars?” 

Dark rounded on him, a wicked grin spreading on his face. “Don’t tell me; you’ve never kissed a girl?” 

Link stared back blankly. “A few months ago I was ten years old. I became an adult overnight and have been doing nothing but trying to save Hyrule since. I didn’t exactly have time for romance.” 

His dark-haired friend nodded. “True enough. But we can remedy that. Almost every guy your age is chasing girls; it’s like a requirement of our age group.” 

“So why aren’t you out chasing girls?” Link asked, nudging Dark in the ribs. 

Dark scoffed. “I have a girl.” 

Link looked suddenly thoughtful. “So, you and Sienna…” He leaned close, suddenly serious. “You do a lot of kissing under the stars?” 

Confused, Dark furrowed his brows. Then realization dawned. “You really have no idea…” he said, staring at Link in astonishment. 

“I just told you I became an adult overnight! I didn’t go around kissing girls!” 

Dark busted up laughing, doubling over from the force of it. “Okay…listen up. It’s real simple: you just walk up to a girl you think is pretty, and ask her to dance. Shouldn’t be too hard, you’re popular.” With a grin, he moved his gaze to a group of village girls nearby, shyly glancing their way. “Just be nice—and don’t look at their chests. Girls hate that.” 

Link’s brow creased. “Why would I look at their chests?” 

Dark slapped a palm to his face. Then he laughed, asking, “Are you sure you even like girls? ‘Cause if not we need to have a different conversation.” 

The blond shrugged. “I like girls…they’re nice.” 

“No, I mean are you attracted to them. Wasn’t there ever a girl you thought was pretty? A girl you wanted to kiss?” 

He was surprised by the sudden flush to Link’s face. “There was one girl…once…” he mumbled. 

Dark clapped a hand on his shoulder. “There we go! Now, first challenge is asking a girl to dance. After that it’s just about how you act. Put your arms like so,” he explained, demonstrating with an invisible partner, “and you’ll be fine. But stay away from any dirty dancing and the like.” 

Link cocked his head. “What’s dirty dancing?” 

“I’ll explain when you’re older.” Dark stood up, gesturing for him to follow. 

He steered Link in the direction of Sienna and Fayne, deciding that a woman he knew at least a little was better than a stranger. 

“And remember,” he said to Link in a low voice, “If you’re dancing with someone and she asks you to come back to her house with her, just say no.” 

He could see that he’d completely lost him on that one. 

“Why would she ask me to come to her house?” 

Dark halted, considered it, and then kept walking, leaving Link to catch up. “You’re not ready for that one yet,” he muttered, ignoring his friend's questioning look. 

Sienna saw him approach and turned to smile at him. He returned it, extending his arm. 

“May we have this dance, ladies?” he asked formally. 

Sienna took hold of Dark’s arm, allowing him to whirl her out into the crowd of dancers. Looking over her shoulder, he saw Link say something to the blonde girl which made her giggle. She took his hand, and after a moment of awkwardness while Link figured out where to place his hands, they were spinning next to Dark and Sienna. 

It was nearing midnight by the time the party died down. Exhausted from the constant dancing, Dark went to one of the makeshift tables for a drink. He took a healthy swig of ale and let out a deep sigh. 

“Can I talk to you?” 

Link had joined him. He nodded, following Link to a more secluded location. Dark briefly wondered if something horrible had happened. He'd been keeping an eye out all evening, and he'd seemed fine. 

Halting, Link turned to him, saying, “I’m leaving tomorrow. I wanted to let you know…” He paused, scratching his head. “And thank you for the lessons.” 

Dark couldn’t help a grin. “So am I. And you’re welcome. Put them to good use.” 

“You don’t seem surprised.” 

“I’m not. I knew you’d have to leave sooner or later. Continue your quest and whatnot.” 

Link shrugged. “So you’re leaving too?” 

He nodded. “Sienna and I are going to go back to Termina. It’s safer there.” Seeing Link’s disappointed look, he added, “Maybe when this is all over, we’ll see each other again.” 

Brightening, Link said, “I’d like that.” 

“Where are you headed?” 

“Zora’s Domain. Fayne helped me find a way to melt red ice; if I can do that, King Zora might be able to tell me where to find the Water Temple and the next Sage.” 

“Red ice?” Dark repeated. 

“Magical ice,” Link explained. “It can only be destroyed by blue fire. Fayne told me that it can only be found in extremely cold regions.” 

Dark laughed. “I know all about that; we used to live in the Snowhead mountains.” 

Link explained, “Usually, it can be found in caverns with very low temperatures.” 

“Ahh, so you want the Passage.” 

Link perked up. “The what?” 

“It’s known as Snowpeak Passage. A series of caverns and tunnels made completely of ice. It separates Snowpeak ridges in Hyrule from the Snowhead mountains in Termina. I know, the names are way too similar.” 

“That sounds like just the place!” 

“Exactly. You’d most likely find cold fire there.” 

“Do you know where it is?” Link asked. 

“Of course. It’s not too far from here…” Dark mused. 

Link hesitated. “I know you’re planning on leaving…but if it’s not far out of your way, would you come with me?” 

He was surprised. Link wanted him to come along on his quest? Even more shocking was his immediate urge to say yes. To hell with going back to Termina; this sounded much more exciting. 

Then he thought of Sienna; she would be safest in Termina. Then again, Kakariko was the safest place within Hyrule, especially with the Sheikah woman here to protect her. 

“I’d like to come with you,” he said carefully. “But I need to consider Sienna. I’ll let you know by tomorrow, okay?” 

Link agreed. Bidding him goodnight, Dark tracked down Sienna and went back to Impa’s house with her. 

As they undressed for bed, he considered how she would feel about him leaving. The journey would take a few days. He pulled the covers over himself, sliding his arms around her in the darkness. 

Within moments she was asleep, her warm, even breaths hitting his chest. He lay awake for a while, mulling over the possibilities. If they went back to Termina, they might have a life together; a peaceful, happy, serene…boring life. 

He sighed. Sienna deserved that kind of life. She deserved a secure and happy household. He hated himself for thinking it, but he didn't really think he could give her that. 

Since he'd been stuck at the Palardine orphanage, Dark had struggled and fought and scraped and stolen to get out. His earliest memories had taunted him of the life that had been ripped from beneath his feet. One with a family; people who loved him. 

Sienna and Fierce, his surrogate family, should have been enough. Yet, he'd left their home in Snowhead, feeling that draw to leave, to be somewhere new. That restlessness was creeping up again. 

Holding her closer to his body, Dark planted a kiss on the top of her head. Knowing his decision, he closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep. 

**~oOo~**

_Telluran Plain, Eldin Province, 2 days later_

Ugly, goggling fish eyes stared at him from the spit, their cloudy pupils silently judging his actions. Glaring back, he reached up and turned it the spit over the fire, allowing the flames to roast his dinner’s other side. 

Take that, stupid fish, Dark mentally insulted it. 

Upside down, the fish’s gaping mouth and bulging eyes looked even more ridiculous. 

“I left a note!” he told it defensively. “It’s not like I’ll be gone long.” 

Prodding a wayward chunk of kindling with the toe of his boot, he inhaled the crisp smell of smoke and cooked fish. The firelight glinted dully in the round, milky white eyes. 

“She’s in good hands!” he nearly shouted at his dinner, turning the spit again hastily in irritation. 

“Why are you talking to a fish?” 

“None of your business!” he shot at the newly arrived Link. 

Walking to the far side of the campfire, well away from Dark, he knelt to unload his burden of firewood. “I brought some water,” he said helpfully, holding up a full canteen. He tossed it to his companion, who grumbled ungratefully. “It’s not too late to turn back…” Link began carefully. “If you wanted to go back to Kakariko.” 

Dark snorted and slid the cooked fish off the spit gingerly with his fingers. “No, I’m going with you.” He laid the fish carefully on a rock, using a small knife to slice it open. “Who else is going to keep you from dying up in the mountains?” he asked mockingly. 

“Link can take care of himself!” the high, tinny voice of Navi shot back. 

Her wings fluttered with agitation; clearly her attitude towards Dark hadn’t improved in the last couple days of traveling together. 

Dark scoffed, ripping the fine bones out of the cooked fish. Link ignored the slight, asking when they could expect to reach the mountain pass. Dark looked up from his butchering, squinting at the horizon. 

“Tomorrow evening, if we keep a good pace.” He wrapped the fish in cloth, handing it to Link. 

They passed the rest of their modest dinner in relative silence. Navi blatantly ignored him, occasionally speaking to Link in low tones. Stretching, Dark settled in front of the fire, lying on his side with his head propped on a hand. Exhausted from the day’s travel, he began to fall asleep. His eyes flicked open when a sound reached his ears. 

A long-forgotten melody wafted over to him from the other side of the fire like a ghost from the past, making him feel both uneasy and strangely comforted. It was a song, now he heard it again, he recalled perfectly. His mother had often coaxed him to sleep singing it. 

Looking up, he stared transfixed at Link as he continued to play. A sleek, royal blue ocarina was held between his hands, issuing the slow and melancholy tune. The ending notes faded, rising in the night with the dying sparks of the fire. 

Link raised his head, his expression changing upon seeing Dark’s face. “What is it?” 

He had to swallow before answering. “My…mother used to play that song. ‘The Lost’ I think it was called.” 

“Really?” He studied his instrument with interest. “I heard it a long time ago…I don’t remember where. The forest, probably,” he shrugged. “I never knew there was a story behind it.” 

“Do not fear the voices in the dark/nor the shadows of the trees that are swaying. Do not be afraid, young one/Follow the sound of the music I am playing/Follow it all the way home,” Dark recited. “That’s all I can remember,” he added, shrugging. 

Link wasn’t listening. His expression was far away. Whether he was lost in memories of the forest or something else, Dark wasn’t sure. His friend’s eyes stayed on the blue ocarina, his fingers idly tracing the smooth, rounded edge of the instrument. 

“It’s beautiful,” Dark commented. 

Link snapped free of the spell. “Hm?” 

“Your ocarina,” he continued. “My mother used to have one. It was white though…” 

“What was she like?” 

The question caught Dark off guard. He lay down in the grass, looking towards the heavens. “I don’t remember her much,” he admitted. 

An image flashed across his mind’s eye. A woman, smiling broadly, her fair hair catching the sun and wind and ocean blue of the sky, reflecting it back to him. “She had long, fair hair,” he said slowly. “Blue eyes, like me.” He paused. “She had a nice smile.” 

There was a rustle as Link laid down on his side of the camp. “A nice smile,” he repeated. “She must have been a good mother.” 

Dark chuckled. “Why is that?” 

Link shrugged. “I’m not sure. Whenever I imagined having a mother, I always thought that she must have a kind smile—that it would be a kind of sign, you know?” 

“Yeah.” 

Conversation died off, and Link and Navi fell asleep soon after that. Dark rolled onto his side, watching the glowing embers in the fire pit. Across from him he saw Link’s sleeping form and wondered whether he could take it as some cosmic sign from the gods that Link had inherited their mother’s smile exactly. 

Death Mountain resembled nothing more than a fuzzy, grey outline on the horizon. Its fellows surrounded it, guards protecting their king, stretching all the way to the mouth of the passage before them. 

As it was, the sun had just begun to sink below the edge of the world, its feeble orange rays bathing the way ahead. 

“Welcome to the border,” Dark announced. “Also known as Snowpeak Passage. This corridor leads you to a fork—one goes northeast, into Snowhead, before turning south towards Termina, the other goes north, into the Snowpeak ridges on the other side.” 

“What’s beyond that?” Navi asked, curious. Already the fairy was shivering, unaccustomed to the cold. 

Dark tossed Link an extra cloak he had brought with him. The latter wrapped it around his shoulders, allowing Navi to hide inside for warmth. 

“You don’t want to know,” Dark answered her cryptically. “However, we’re going to be taking a third route.” 

The third route directed them back south, running parallel to Termina’s border. It had been constructed by the Zora for access to the frozen peaks; in the springtime, the runoff from the mountain glaciers provided a renewed source of water for the aquatic race. 

The cavern itself was natural—an obstacle the Zora had navigated during the tunnel’s construction. As the group passed from the Zora-built snow tunnel and into the ice cavern, the temperature dropped significantly. 

Having spent years acclimatizing to Snowhead’s harsh winters, Dark felt no more than a distinct shiver at the sudden cold draft. Link, on the other hand, was accustomed to the mild winter seasons of southeast Hyrule and was already beginning to feel his fingers go numb. 

Dark felt around in his pack and retrieved a small bottle. Placing his palm over the opening, he willed a small flame to appear. The tiny fire dropped into the bottle, glowing warmly like a small candle—albeit without the wax or wick. 

He handed it to Link before grabbing a second bottle for himself. “Be careful,” he warned the blond. “There could be any number of things lying in wait ahead.” 

They moved quickly but cautiously through the cavern. The bottle-fires kept them warm enough, but even Dark began to feel sluggish and numb. This cold was just not natural. 

Aside from the occasional ice keese or giant icicle threatening to fall and impale them, they encountered no dangers. It wasn’t until they reached the fifth large cavern that Dark and Link felt something was off. 

There was a slight vibration in the air, subtle enough that they had to stand perfectly still in order to feel it. It was accompanied by a low rumbling sound that seemed to be growing louder. 

Link’s eyes darted to the grey-white ceiling above them. Crevasses in the snow allowed shafts of moonlight into the cave, illuminating their way, as well as the dozens of deadly sharp icicles right above their heads. 

“Is it caving in?” he asked, alarmed. 

“I don’t think so,” Dark said. “It would be much louder.” He continued to listen to the noise, trying to place it. 

He realized too late what it was when they found themselves surrounded by several pairs of glowing yellow eyes. They appeared suddenly, their sleek white fur blending in with their surroundings. It had been impossible to spot them until it was too late. 

“It’s an ambush,” Dark murmured to Link, who had already drawn his sword. “Don’t move a single inch, or they’ll charge us.” 

The wolfos started to circle the pair in a predatory dance, their jaws hanging open and snapping occasionally, eerie yellow eyes burning in anticipation of the hunt. The two men remained back to back, following the easy, loping movements of the pack. 

A piercing howl split their ears, tearing their focus away from their quarry. An enormous wolfos stood on a rock ledge above their heads, its pure white fur glistening. The smaller wolfos whined obediently, stopping in their tracks. All heads turned toward the giant wolfos, awaiting its command. 

“Can we move now?” Link asked, his tone sarcastic. 

Dark shot him a look. “Move.” 

Sensing their decision before they even moved their feet, the white wolfos snarled down at Link and Dark, stirring the pack to action. 

The leader seemed content to watch, waiting its turn as its followers descended upon the two Hylians, eyes blazing and teeth flashing. 

With a roar of effort, Dark swung Deraphine with all his might at the first wolfos who pounced on him. Like a jagged cleaver, she stuck the beast in the side. Her wavy blade embedded itself deep before whipping free with surprising ease. Dark watched in confusion and awe as the strangely constructed blade pushed and pulled, weaved and dodged like a living wave, belying its appearance as an awkward and inefficient weapon. Dyed red as the hair of the goddess for who she was named, Deraphine made quick work of the beasts. 

Using the hard days of training he had undergone first with Dark and then with Impa, Link put all his newfound skills to the test. The Master Sword was eager as ever to go along for the ride. The blade was again an extension of his body, as its power grew alongside his. As a weapon it was quick but powerful, resonating with the fabled evil-destroying strength it was known for. The dark beasts that attacked Link fell before the sword of evil’s bane, howling as they dissolved and burst, leaving behind only the burst of thick black smoke. 

Panting, Link raised his head to see the fight was over. The last wisps of smoke were dissipating in the freezing air, and the wolfos who had lunged at Dark lay in bloody heaps at his feet. The sight of so much crimson splashed on Dark and staining the snow made him reel for a second. 

The Master Sword alone held the power to utterly destroy dark creatures. Other weapons tended to create more of a mess. 

Dark wiped his hair out of his face, turning to Link. “All right, there?” 

He was about to reply when above them there was a vicious growl that became a snarl, then a furious howl. The white wolfos leaped from its perch, fangs bared and claws leaving deep scratches in the rock. 

It landed hard on Link, knocking him down. The viciously sharp claws plunged into his shoulders as the enormous beast pressed down on him. He cried out, the heavy, furry body crushing his chest. Drawing breath became a struggle, and then impossible. With one arm free, Link rammed his gauntlet covered forearm between the creature’s teeth, keeping its gnashing fangs away from his face. 

A high-pitched yelp escaped the beast as Dark plunged a dagger into its exposed back. The pressure on Link’s chest eased, and he heaved in a lungful. The giant wolfos rolled off him and leapt back up to attack Dark. 

Dark stared it down, eyes sharp with anger. Bathed in blood, swathed in a dark cloak and wielding the sword of the damned, he looked like a dark-haired demon, snarling and growling just as much as the white monster before him. 

Sitting up, Link was just in time to see the brute crash into his friend, its giant, muscular body pinning him to the floor. Dark struggled, stabbing it multiple times, but his strength was nothing compared to the animalistic power contained inside the white wolf. 

Link rushed to help. “Dark!” 

“Link, look!” Navi’s voice diverted his attention. When he looked to where she was pointing, however, his plan changed. 

Rather than rushing to Dark’s aid, he dropped to his knees and began rifling through his pack. 

“Bloody bastard!” Dark snarled at his opponent, slicing its muzzle with the dagger. 

The beast screeched in pain, claws gouging into the solid ice beneath them. In retaliation it lowered its great head and locked its teeth onto his arm. Dark howled with pain when it began to whip its head from side to side, trying tear off his arm and keep it as a souvenir. 

“Nayru be damned!” he swore, latching his fingers onto the brute’s jaw. 

He pried with all the might of his free arm, but the devil’s fangs didn’t budge. He wasn’t nearly strong enough to pry its jaw open, especially one-handed. The wolfos was grunting and snarling, still trying to rip its meddlesome prey’s arm clean off. 

“Link!” Dark shouted furiously. “Do something!” 

“Don’t move!” Link’s voice sounded from nearby. 

“What? I am not going to stay still and let this bastard maul me!” 

“Shut up, Dark!” 

There was a twang and then the sound of something striking. A whoosh, and then the most terrible howl yet from the beast, high and full of pain. Dark went still as the jaws clamped onto him relaxed and blood began to flow from the wounds on his bicep. 

Stunned, the white wolfos eased up. Dark sucked in a breath, reaching for his knife. Link beat him to the punch; the Master Sword cut clean through the creature, its body exploding into plumes of smoke before Dark’s eyes. 

He took a deep breath of relief. When he looked up, Link stood there triumphantly, his bow in his hand. 

“It worked!” he announced. 

It was then that Dark noticed the chunks of ice surrounding him; Link had fired at one of the giant icicles hanging from the ceiling, causing it to fall and crush his target. 

“Thanks,” he said to Link, sincerely, as he helped him up. 

“Anytime,” he replied. His eyes dropped to Dark’s arm. “How is it?” 

Navi floated over to inspect the damage. “He’ll live,” she informed them, sounding very much disappointed. 

Dark chuckled. Link retrieved a bandage from their gear, helping to secure it around the teeth marks. After checking that Link’s ribs and arm were unbroken, only badly bruised, Dark cleaned himself up as best he could and retrieved his things. 

The chamber that held the blue fire wasn’t far ahead. 

After several dead ends and turns back in the labyrinthine tunnels, a ghostly blue light gave away the location. Hurrying down the narrow tunnel, they turned the corner to find themselves in a cavern unlike any other they had seen so far. 

Rather than ice, the cave was completely made of crystal. If Dark didn’t know the crystal cave was natural gemstone, he might have thought that a master had carved the room from the inside of the world’s biggest sapphire. Every surface of the gemstones glittered, reflecting the spectral light cast by the blue fire all the way up until there was nothing but blackness. 

In the center of it all was their prize: a large magical flame, burning strongly though it had no source, jewel blue in color. The crystal cave was mesmerizing. 

“What do you think it is?” Link asked, reaching out to touch one of the clusters of precious stone fused to the wall. 

“It’s known as zura,” Dark replied. “Or Zora’s Sapphire.” 

“Zora’s Sapphire,” Link agreed. “I’ve seen it before, but…never like this.” 

“It’s incredibly rare,” Dark said. “You never see it in its raw state like this.” 

“It’s beautiful,” Navi murmured. 

When the spell of the enchanting cave had lessened, Link reached for his spare bottles, kneeling next to the fire. Hesitantly, he took one and passed it through the blue fire. It was so cold he nearly dropped the bottle in shock, but to his relief a small part of the flame had been trapped within, still burning strong. 

He captured two more small flames, storing them safely with his gear. He rose and walked over to Dark, who was examining the zura more closely. 

“I wonder if it’s the extreme cold of the blue fire that creates them,” he said, touching one of the icy gemstones carefully. More than a fleeting touch would freeze him. “Or if they create the blue fire.” 

Link shrugged. “It’s magic, isn’t it? I’m not sure anyone knows how it works.” 

Dark stared at his reflection, echoed a thousand times over in the facets of the crystals. “I don’t think I want to go back,” he muttered. 

Confused, Link asked. “What do you mean?” 

“To Termina,” Dark explained. “I don’t want to go back. I told Sienna we would…but I don’t want it. I don’t want that life…and I’m afraid she’ll hate me for it.” 

His sudden burst of honesty came unwittingly. He wasn’t sure what it was about the crystal cave, the cool blue light and chill temperature that made him so introspective. But for some reason he couldn’t tear his eyes away from thousands of tiny mirrors glazing the walls, showing his own face staring back at him. 

Link followed his gaze. “Sometimes I feel I never should have left the forest,” he said quietly. A similar spell had fallen over him. He stared thoughtfully and perhaps a little sadly into the blue flames. 

Dark turned to look at him, surprised that he would express such a sentiment. He’d been under the impression that, like him, Link was at heart an adventurer, always seeking something new. 

Link continued. “I see what the world has become…and I feel responsible. If I had never left, Hyrule would have remained the way it was, perfect and beautiful.” 

Dark laughed softly. “Hyrule was never perfect. Land of the gods?” He shook his head. “It’s a land of mortals, of imperfect people. It’s not a paradise…it’s just like everywhere else.” 

Suddenly angry, Link countered, “You can’t pretend it’s the same as it was.” 

Sighing, Dark replied, “No, it isn’t. But it can be undone, can’t it? That’s what you’re trying to do.” 

“Yes,” Link admitted, somewhat reluctantly. 

“Then you are redeemed,” Dark said, smiling. “Just like that…unlike me,” he added, the corner of his mouth quirking. 

Sensing his meaning, Link’s brow smoothed, and he approached him. “Dark.” He put a hand on his shoulder. “She won’t hate you. Just tell her you want to stay.” 

Eyes hooded, he raised his head and met Link’s eyes. “It’s not your fault, you know, what Ganondorf did to Hyrule.” 

Link stiffened, his eyes searching Dark’s. 

“I believe in you,” Dark said suddenly, meeting Link’s gaze clearly. “I believe you can beat him. If not you, then…who?” 

Link didn’t reply. 

Dark laughed, his mood abruptly brightening. “You’re stronger than you realize, Link. If I were him, I would be afraid of what’s coming.” 

Picking up his pack, Dark left the cavern, leaving Link to stare at the crystals and their endless reflections. After a moment, he stooped to pick up his own pack, hearing the bottles of blue fire jostling within it. 

For the first time, with the power to save the Zoras in his hands, he felt in some small way he had won. This was a small victory, but it was one step closer to defeating Ganondorf.


	37. Rescue Mission

“I hope your aim is as good as you claim,” Dark called out tauntingly. 

His boot slipped on the wooden beam and he nearly ended up with one leg on either side of the fence. He self-consciously patted himself between the legs in protection. 

Link snickered. “Let’s hope your balance is good, too.” 

Dark shot him a look. “Just wait. Let me find a good spot.” 

He continued to walk along the top of the fence, arms thrust out for balance. Stopping on a rung that seemed trustworthy, he tested it by bouncing up and down a couple times. 

Link held up the apple in his palm, tossing it to Dark when he held up his hands. 

“Ready?” Link asked. 

Placing the apple carefully on top of his head, Dark responded affirmatively. “Let’s see it, then.” 

Link gripped his bow, drawing an arrow from his quiver. “Stay still,” he warned Dark. 

Dark scoffed. Navi rolled her eyes. “I’d listen; unless you want an arrow through the eye.” 

“Have some faith,” Link protested. 

“I trust you,” Dark assured Link with a grin. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” 

The only movement from Link was an inhale and a twitch as he loosed the arrow. Dark didn’t even notice until the apple tumbled to the ground, the arrow sliced through its middle. 

“Perfect!” he exclaimed, jumping down from the fence and scooping up the pierced apple. “Nicely done.” He pulled out the arrow and split the fruit in half, offering a side to Link. 

He took it with a grin. “I told you I could do it,” he said, biting into the snack. 

Dark laughed. “Remind me never to doubt you.” 

They were almost back to Kakariko. The tell-tale windmill loomed on the horizon, ever turning. Dark knew Link was anxious to get on with his quest; from here he would travel to Zora’s domain with the blue fire. 

For his part, Dark was dreading the return. Returning meant having to confront Sienna about his abrupt departure—and his decision to stay in Hyrule rather than return to Termina. 

“We’re almost back!” Navi said excitedly. Dark scowled. 

Link smiled. “Now we can finally do something about Zora’s domain and get this whole mess sorted out.” He turned to Dark, “Thanks to you, for most of it.” 

Flustered, he said, “What? It’s your mission, not mine.” 

“If not for you I wouldn’t have this,” Link insisted, shaking his pack under Dark’s nose. The bottles of blue fire rattled inside. 

“If not for you I wouldn’t be alive,” Dark countered. “So thank you.” 

“But—“ 

“You don’t owe me anything,” Dark said. 

Link dropped the issue for the time being, and they continued on. When they reached the outskirts of the village, they turned and cut through the forest. After a short trek, they emerged again in Kakariko graveyard. From there it was only a short walk back to Impa’s house. 

When they arrived, however, a surprise was there waiting for them. They found Impa seated at the table, in conversation with a short, rotund man with brawny arms an impressive moustache. Link’s expression changed to one of confusion, then surprise as the man turned around. 

“Link! Is that you, my boy?” 

To Dark’s puzzlement, the stranger stood up, knocking aside his chair carelessly, and embraced Link in a bone-crushing hug that would put Darunia to shame. Noticing him for the first time, the man turned to Dark. 

“Who’s this? Yer twin?” 

Dark choked on a surprised laugh, and Link raised an eyebrow in confusion. 

“This is my friend, Dark. This is Talon, the owner of Lon Lon Ranch. He’s an old friend.” 

Able to breathe once again, Dark extended his hand in greeting. “Great to meet you. Love your milk. Delicious,” he said, trying to keep his composure. 

Talon returned the greeting, before saying to Link. “It’s wonderful to see you again, but I’m afraid my business in Kakariko is not of the happiest nature.” 

Dark took a seat next to Impa. He could’ve sworn he saw amusement play across her lips at his reaction to Talon’s comment, but it disappeared too quickly. 

“What’s happened?” Link asked. 

“It’s the ranch,” Talon said sadly. “It’s been overrun with Gerudo. I was kicked out, Ingo’s taken over, Malon…” he broke off, hastily wiping his face to catch any tears. 

Clearly distressed, Link pressed. “What happened? Is she all right?” 

Talon inhaled deeply. “As far as I know.” He sighed, hanging his head in misery. “I just don’t know…” 

“Talon.” Impa’s voice interrupted the beginning of his sobbing. “You know, of course, that I will assist any way I can. We will get your daughter back.” 

The ranch owner raised his head. “Really?” he asked earnestly. 

“Of course. I can send—“ 

“I’ll go,” Link interrupted. 

Impa looked at him sharply. “By yourself? Absolutely not.” 

“This is what I’m supposed to do, right? Help people? I should be doing that,” Link argued. 

“There are more important things to—“ 

“I’ll go with him,” Dark volunteered. 

Impa turned her stony glare on him. Clearly, she wasn’t a fan of being interrupted so much. 

“I’ll go,” he repeated, meeting first Impa’s eyes, then Link’s. “He won’t be alone,” he reassured Impa. “And I’ll be there to make sure you don’t get killed,” he said brightly to Link. 

Link scowled. “I can handle it.” 

Dark shrugged. “Maybe, but we’ve both gone up against Gerudo before. It’s not a bad idea to bring some help along.” 

Link sighed. “Fine, I won’t go alone.” 

“Good lad,” Impa said, rising from her chair and patting Link on the shoulder as she passed. “I’ll speak with Taver about recruiting some men. Excuse me.” 

As she exited the house, Talon turned to Link. “Link, I can’t thank you enough for what you’re doing…” 

“Don’t mention it,” Link said, brushing off the thanks. “I’ll do everything I can to help Malon,” he assured Talon. 

Dark smirked, noting how uncomfortable Talon’s gratitude made him. 

Smiling fondly, Talon gripped Link in a quick hug before exiting the house after Impa. “Thank you,” he said sincerely, closing the door behind him. 

“You’re welcome,” Link replied quietly, watching him go. 

Dark chuckled, standing up and walking over to Link. “I thought you said there wasn’t a girl in your life. Scoundrel,” he accused him mockingly. 

“What?” Link looked genuinely shocked. “She’s not a girl! Well, I mean, she is, but she’s not…” 

Dark doubled over with laughter. “Relax, man. Friend of yours?” 

Link shrugged. “She was…I just haven’t seen her in seven years…like everyone else I knew.” His expression darkened, his eyebrows coming down in a frown. 

“It’s okay,” he said, slinging an arm about Link’s shoulders. “She’ll be happy to see you again. And who knows? Maybe time has been good to her and she can be the girl—“ He broke off when Link elbowed him the ribs. He let out a wheezy laugh. “Or not…no pressure.” 

Link treated him to a disapproving look. “Why don’t you worry about your own girl problems?” he taunted. “You just want to come to the ranch so you can avoid talking to Sienna.” 

“I do not!” Dark protested, shielding himself when Link swung his elbow again. “I want to come for the women. Have you seen Gerudo women?” He just dodged Link’s next swing. “Ah! Okay, okay, fine.” 

“You’ll stay back?” Link asked. 

Dark chuckled. “When did our roles switch? I’m supposed to be the condescending ass, not you.” 

Link grinned. “Let me take care of Lon Lon. You fix things with Sienna. When I get back, we can head for the domain. That is…if you want to come along.” 

“You want me to come with you?” Dark was taken aback. 

“Well, yeah. We make a good team, don’t you think?” 

“That’s debatable,” Navi muttered, her voice muffled from inside Link’s hat. 

Dark made a rude gesture she couldn’t see. “I think so,” he said cheerfully. “I’d love to come. You can always use an extra hand, right?” 

Link smiled. “Great. Then I’ll see you in a couple of days?” 

Dark nodded. “Of course.” 

He watched Link gather his belongings and depart with the fairy at his side. He would most likely stop to resupply before leaving Kakariko. As far as he remembered, Lon Lon was less than a day’s walk away; he would return shortly, and they could make their way upriver. 

Dark sighed. That wouldn’t happen unless he talked to Sienna first. He had two whole days. Rather than put it off, he resolved to bite the bullet. Finding she was not at home, he left Impa’s house to search for her. 

**~oOo~**

By the time the high walls and peaked red roofs of the ranch loomed over the hills, it was evening. Undeterred, Link and Navi pressed on. 

He felt somewhat guilty for ignoring Impa’s orders to bring along reinforcements—but there hadn’t been any time to waste, and sneaking out alone had been simple enough. He was sure he’d hear about it upon his return. 

Focusing on the task at hand, Link approached the ranch’s front gate. While he had been expecting enemy occupation, it was still strange to see the front gate bolted shut. A jog around the perimeter proved the ranch’s captors hadn’t bothered to designate any sentries. 

The hookshot made scaling the wall relatively easy. A tree that grew flush against the wall proved to be a good vantage point once he was inside. 

“What do you see?” Navi asked for the third time. 

Link lowered his telescope. “No one,” he said quizzically. “It’s completely dark.” 

He shot a glance towards the paddock. It’s high, sturdy fence circled an empty space of grass. No one stood in the middle; the sound of music was absent. 

“And quiet,” he sighed. He swung down from the tree, boots thudding softly in the grass. 

Sidling along the back of the house, Link noticed a light shining from a small window on the second floor. Deciding it was safer than knocking on the front door, he clambered back up into the tree and used the hookshot to get onto the roof. 

From there he edged as close as he dared to the precipice, lowering himself upside down over the lip of the roof. The new vantage point allowed him to see in the lit window, even if doing so made his head throb from all the blood rushing to it. 

A redheaded girl was inside the small room, seated at a ramshackle desk, reading. Not wanting to startle her, he tapped lightly on the window pane. She sat with her back to him, but he noticed her head rise slightly at the sound. When she brushed it off, he tapped again, louder. He tapped insistently until she laid her book aside on the desk and stood. He retreated to the roof, listening to the creak as she opened the window to look out. 

A bright red head poked out below his hiding spot. Sighing, she started to pull back inside the room. 

“Malon,” he hissed. 

Her shriek nearly deafened him. Link scrambled back up the slant of the roof, panicked. 

“Malon!” he called again, quietly. 

“Who’s there!?” 

“It’s me, Link!” 

“Allow me,” Navi interrupted. 

The blue fairy zipped past the edge of the roof into Malon’s line of sight. Malon let out a gasp. 

“You’re a…fairy.” 

Her memory was coming back to her. “Navi! Link!” She craned her neck around, trying to see above onto the roof. “Link! What are you doing here?” Her voice was quiet but urgent, coming out in a harsh whisper. 

“Meet us outside,” Link called back. “Ifyou can,” he added. 

The window creaked shut and closed with a snap. Link and Navi climbed down from the roof, sticking to the shadows as Malon crept downstairs. Link heard the front door swish open and close without a sound. Soft footsteps in the grass alerted him to her moving from the house to the stable; the heavy door moved aside with slightly more noise as she slipped inside. Cautiously, Link followed her path, sidling along the building and ducking inside. 

The moment he was inside the stable, he turned his head expecting to see his friend—instead he was blinded as a lantern was shoved near his face. 

“Sorry,” Malon muttered as he raised a hand to protect his eyes. She set the light down, illuminating the pair in the darkness. 

“It’s all right.” Link lowered his arm. A horse stamped its hoof in nervousness. He wondered if Epona was somewhere close by. 

When his eyes adjusted to the light and landed on Malon, he held back a gasp. It never ceased to amaze him; the change in his friends’ appearances. At times, he forgot that it had been seven years for them, and mere days or weeks for him. Some, like Talon, had hardly changed. Others, like Malon, had undergone a complete transformation. 

He had been expecting a cute, round-faced girl with big blue eyes the color of gemstones and a tangled mess of fiery red hair, with a spattering of freckles to match. The young woman before him had lost all hint of girlish roundness. The eyes were the same, but the face was older, more oval-shaped now. 

Her sparkling blue eyes were wide as she stared back at him in obvious surprise. He suddenly wondered how he must look to others, after all this time. How he must have changed. 

“Is it…really you?” she asked, her fingertips brushing his cheek. 

He laughed softly. “It’s me…fairy boy,” he joked. She pulled her hand back, looking away shyly. 

“You’re not a boy anymore, Link,” she told him. 

Her gaze lifted and locked onto his. Something in those wide, blue eyes and her quiet words made heat flare in his face. He looked down at his boots, trying to brush away Dark’s voice in his head. 

“No, I suppose not,” he agreed. Her eyes on him burned his skin. 

“Perhaps we should get to why we’re here,” Navi prodded him. 

Malon cleared her throat, guessing what Navi had said. “Of course…why are you here?” 

Link shifted his focus back to her. “I’m here to rescue you. I ran into your father in Kakariko, and he told me what had happened here.” 

If possible, her eyes widened even more. “Father! Is he all right? Where is he?” 

“He’s fine.” Link held out a hand to interrupt her panicked rambling. “You’ll see for yourself soon enough.” 

He reached out and took her hand, pulling her towards the door. She pulled right back. 

“Wait,” she said, surprising him. “We can’t leave yet.” 

“Why not?” 

She looked distressed, worried even. “It’s Mr. Ingo. He hasn’t been the same since the Gerudo came here. And Epona!” she said suddenly, just recalling. “They’re going to take her away!” 

At the mention of the filly, Link froze. “Who’s going to take her?” 

A tear rolled down Malon’s cheek as she told him of the Gerudos’ plan to present the horse as a gift to the king. She also told him of Ingo’s tyrannical behaviour and that Ingo was in fact the one responsible for kicking Talon off the ranch. 

“We can’t leave without either of them,” Malon insisted. 

Link was trying to explain to her the urgency of the situation when a soft rustling noise caused the tips of his pointed ears to twitch. 

“Shh,” he hushed her, instinctively crouching. 

He drew his blade silently, causing Malon’s eyes flare in awe and alarm. She held still as Link moved soundlessly to the corner where he’d heard the noise. 

Very carefully, he brushed aside some straw, trying to peer into the darkness. He jabbed his sword into the corner of the stable, trying to elicit a reaction from any eavesdroppers. All that came back was a loud and irritated squawk. A lone cucco trotted out of its hiding place, its eyes rimmed red and angry. 

Ruffled feathers didn’t even begin to cover it. Link bit back a startled scream at the sight of the feathery demon he had so rudely woken. 

“It’s just a cucco,” he said to Malon, though he knew in some ways the small birds could be as dangerous as any Gerudo spy. 

The redhead let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, thank the goddesses,” she murmured. 

Their relief was short-lived, as not a moment later a heavy thunk could be heard outside the stable. It was quickly followed by a second thunk at the wide sliding doors at the back. 

Link realized what had happened before Malon did. “They know we’re here,” he muttered. 

Shouts from outside confirmed his fear: the Gerudo had found them out. In every stall, the equine and bovine occupants had stirred from sleep, their animal instincts picking up on the danger. The horses began to paw the ground furiously, some even kicking at the doors of their stalls. The cows mooed anxiously, horns banging against their confines. 

In a panic, Malon flew to the side door, trying in vain to force it open. Link tried the same with the larger back door, but he could see through a crack in the door that a broad slab of wood barred them inside. 

“They’ve blockaded us inside!” 

A flash of orange drew his attention to the shadows he could see moving outside in the yard. His stomach dropped as he realized what was about to happen. 

“Navi!” he called, and the fairy obediently flew from Malon’s side over to him. 

The fairy looked outside as well, gasping at what she saw. The Gerudo held bows in their hands, notched already with flaming arrows. 

“Get in,” he said urgently, lifting his hat so Navi could hide. 

“What’s happening?” Malon squeaked. 

Link searched frantically for a way out. He could use the hookshot to pull them into the rafters, maybe climb onto the roof. But the thatched roof was surely where the Gerudo would aim their arrows. He looked around at the panicking animals and a plan began to form in his mind. 

He reached for his sword. In his palm, the hilt of the Master Sword thrummed with power, its pristine blade glowing a dazzling white. It had heard his thoughts; it was ready for a fight. 

“Stand back,” he warned Malon. 

Link turned to the barricaded sliding doors, glancing down at his free hand. The energy from the Master Sword zinged up the length of his arm, crossing over to his right and centering in his palm, as if sensing his request for a boost of magical power. 

A bright orange ball of flame sparked to life in his hand—the Din’s Fire spell. Dark had taught him how to contain it in a single burst of magic power and use it like a missile rather than an area attack. 

The roof of the stable creaked and then exploded as flames ate their way through. Soon the support beams were engulfed and gave out, crashing to the floor, spreading the flames. Malon shrieked as the beam above her gave way, shielding herself from the extreme heat. 

“Malon, watch out!” 

Sheathing his sword for the moment, Link seized her around the waist, pulling her to his side and moving between her and the fire. Within seconds his back began to overheat as the fire ravaged the stable. The animals screamed with terror, and Malon shook with terror, but he couldn’t afford to lose concentration. 

“It’s okay,” he muttered, though she couldn’t hear him over the noise. 

Gently he coaxed the magical missile in his hand through the gap in the door, urging it to feed on the wooden barrier. It did so, eating away at the wood like a hungry wolf, moving faster than the natural fire behind them. Standing back a step, Link landed a well-aimed kick at the center of the stable door. It groaned in protest, but started to crumple outwards. 

Satisfied, Link next unfurled his cloak from around his shoulders, tossing it over Malon’s head to protect her. He guided her away from the door, out of harm’s way. 

“Stay here!” he shouted. 

She nodded mutely, flinching back from the heat and smoke. 

With one arm across his nose and mouth, Link moved to each stall in turn, lifting the simple wooden latches and allowing the stable’s occupants to stampede free. Their keen noses led them towards the smell of outside air, and the only foreseeable exit. 

**~oOo~ **

Outside, the squadron of Gerudo admired their handiwork. The roof had easily caught fire, of course, and it wouldn’t take long afterwards for the entire structure to become consumed. Nothing burned like wooden buildings. The Gerudo were fonder of stone structures. 

Nearby, Ingo paced around the yard; swaggered, more like. He’d been quite pleased at inheriting the ranch and didn’t take kindly to strangers sneaking onto his property. He fumed silently, his occasional muttered complaints ignored completely by the Gerudo. 

A loud bang came from inside amidst the screams and shrieks of animals. The archers remained still, their arrows knocked and their bowstrings taut. They had expected some kind of escape attempt. 

“Steady,” called their captain, quite unnecessarily. No one in her squadron had moved an inch. 

Nothing could be heard for a moment save the crackling of flames, the creaks and groans of the stable and the crickets in the far-off pasture. And then the sliding doors at the back exploded outwards, a panicking horde of horses, cows and one cucco bursting from the hole. 

Completely thrown, the Gerudo squadron broke ranks and scattered, much to the disappointment of their captain. Ingo was shrieking, vainly trying to escape from the enraged cucco. Knocked aside by a fleeing horse, the captain tried to maintain order. 

“Back to your posts! Take aim and fire!” she roared. “Ingo! For the love of Din, man, find a weapon and make yourself useful!” 

She needn’t have bothered. The ranch owner’s daughter and the forest youth were already escaping, thundering out of the barn on the back of a proud roan mare—the one the captain had intended to gift to Ganondorf the next day. 

“No!” she screamed, snatching an arrow from her quiver. 

The arrow flew straight at the ranch girl, but it was blocked by the blonde youth, cut in half by his sword. The mare and her riders had come to a full stop in the middle of the chaotic group of Gerudo. 

“Mr. Ingo!” the ranch girl pleaded. “Come with us! Come on!” 

Ingo was nearly foaming at the mouth he was so furious. The captain would have found it funny had they not been under attack. 

“This is MY ranch now! You will not take it from me!” 

Impulsively, Ingo scooped up a bow and arrow that lay forgotten in the grass. His hands fumbled but his aim was true; the piercing missile sliced across Link’s thigh. 

Pain twisted Link’s features, much to the captain’s satisfaction, as he freed the arrow and tossed it aside. 

“Sorry, Malon!” Link called, and snapped the reins smartly. 

Epona bolted, her remarkable speed allowing her to easily outdistance the recovering Gerudo. Their captain screeched more orders, and Ingo attempted to land another lucky shot, but it was no use. Link, Malon and Epona had reached the perimeter wall of the ranch. 

Link couldn’t say later how he had done it. Riding Epona had been natural to him from the second he’d freed her in the burning stable and swung onto her broad back. Every muscle in his body seemed to know what to do to direct the mare where he wanted her to go. 

In a moment of perfect synchronization, not unlike his connection to the Master Sword, Epona had read Link’s intentions as he thought them and performed the impossible. 

The mare’s powerful hind legs bunched, her shoulder muscles tensing underneath Link’s resting hands; the next moment, Epona had leaped the boundary wall in a graceful arc, carrying her riders effortlessly through the air. 

The group landed on the other side of the wall, the ranch becoming a dot in the distance as Epona galloped them towards safety. 

Link hadn’t looked back to see the expressions on the faces of the Gerudo. But he’d be willing to bet that they had been hysterical. 

The earliest risers in Hyrule had just opened their eyes when Link, Malon, Navi and Epona reached the outskirts of Kakariko. It had been a dreadfully long night, and they were all exhausted. 

Failing to hold back a yawn, Link shook his head to keep himself alert. He absently patted Epona’s neck, not even caring that her pace had slowed to a lazy walk. Malon had long since fallen asleep, slumped against Link’s back. Her arms were secured around his waist. 

The faint weight of Navi on top of his head stirred, letting him know she was awake. He lifted his hat to let her free, then stretched as best he could without disturbing Malon. 

Navi yawned delicately. “What a night,” she sighed. 

Link mumbled in agreement. He scrubbed at his face with one hand as they ascended the path to Kakariko. He was looking forward to collapsing into his comfortable bed at Impa’s place. 

But once again, his plans were dashed. As they reached the gates of the village, Link and Navi suspiciously noticed the absence of sentries. Link reached for his sword. Impa always had someone guarding the gate. 

The reason why became apparent the moment they went through the gate and trotted into the village square. 

Kakariko village was in flames.


	38. The Siege of Kakariko

The sound of hooves thundering over the ground beneath him was a constant ringing in his ears. The faded green hills and scattered trees of Hyrule Field passed him by in a steady blur. 

It had taken him days to make the voyage from Lake Hylia to the outskirts of Kakariko, but he had ridden nearly non-stop, even at times through the night. His mental and physical exhaustion was small compared to the information he carried. It was vital that it reach the right people. 

Even with the crucial nature of his mission, his sore muscles thanked the skies when he saw the dark, pointed shadow of Death Mountain looming in the distance. 

He urged his horse still faster, determined to make it to the village before nightfall. There wasn’t much time. 

**~oOo~**

He’d checked all the usual places: the market square, the potion shop, Fayne’s library, even the forest outside of town. Sienna wasn’t to be found anywhere. On a long shot, he decided to run by the blacksmith’s stall. 

Dark jogged down the last street, ducking into the side alley where the smith could be found. As usual, the canvas awning was out, supported by two poles. The cave-like interior stretched beneath, the blaze at its heart providing ample light in the darkened space. 

“Taver?” he called, ducking his head under the drooping awning. “You in here?” 

A booming laugh sounded from the back room, followed by a pair of heavy footsteps. A second, stomping set of feet followed. Taver emerged, his bulky frame dwarfed by the figure that came behind him. 

“Dark! Back already?” he asked, still chuckling over whatever had amused him. 

Dark was busy staring slack-jawed over Taver’s shoulder, at the biggest goron he had ever seen. In his time spent living at Snowhead, he had cultivated some friendships with the local Goron tribe. They were a peace-loving people, and he’d quite enjoyed their company. He knew that Kakariko had enjoyed an alliance with their mountain dwelling neighbours for generations. 

Still, he also knew of the ferocity of the Goron race, and this particular one seemed to be full of nothing but ferocity. He closed his mouth and gulped, nodding his head politely at the newcomer. 

“Yeah, we just arrived an hour ago,” he told Taver. 

The blacksmith nodded, stroking his mustache absently. “I see. Ah, where are my manners? Dark, this is Darunia, Goron Elder of the Death Mountain tribe.” 

Darunia’s coal-black eyes swivelled to meet Dark’s. “Dark, eh?” he grunted. “Heard a lot about you from my friend here.” He clapped Taver on the shoulder. Dark winced, but the smith barely noticed. 

The smith noted Dark’s confused expression. “Darunia’s an old friend. I get most of my supplies from his mines, in fact. I mentioned your interest to him,” Taver explained. “How was the trip?” 

“Successful,” Dark replied, quickly outlining Link’s latest call to heroism. 

Darunia chuckled and shook his head. “Same old Link, it seems.” 

Dark’s head spun around. “You know Link?” 

“Of course,” Darunia replied. “He is my sworn Brother.” 

Dark’s eyebrows lifted. “He must have done something great for you to call him that,” he commented. 

Darunia’s eyes glinted. “He did.” 

The goron giant held his gaze for a moment longer before turning to the smith. “I’m afraid I have to leave, though, my friend. I’m needed back at Goron City.” Taver nodded in agreement, seeing the goron outside. As he turned to go, Darunia glanced again at Dark and chuckled, leaning down to say to Taver, “You’re right; he’s all Fire, that one.” 

Darunia’s rumbling laugh echoed as he curled into a ball and rolled away down the alley. At the pace he was going, there was no doubt he’d make it up the mountain before nightfall. 

Taver grunted, “Was there a reason you came by?” 

His mission came back to the forefront of his mind. “Sienna,” he explained. “I was wondering if you’d seen her.” 

“Sorry, she hasn’t been around.” Taver shrugged. “Did you want help looking for her?” 

Dark sighed. “No, I’ll…I’ll find her. Thanks, Taver.” 

“Anytime,” the smith replied. “Enjoy that sword.” 

Dark thanked him again, giving a quick wave before hurrying back onto the main streets. He headed north, intending to check the graveyard. By chance he spotted Impa standing near the giant well beneath the windmill. Sienna stood next to her, her skirts rustling in the wind. 

“Sienna!” he called, rushing towards the pair. 

“Quiet!” Impa snapped, keeping her back to him. 

Dark scowled, putting an arm around Sienna when he reached her. “Nice to see you too,” he said. 

Impa let out a snort but didn’t reply to his barb. She moved her hands slowly and deliberately through the air in invisible patterns, murmuring quietly in her native language. 

“There was a disturbance here at the well,” Sienna explained in a lowered voice. “Impa sensed something was off, magically speaking. She’s trying to find out what caused it.” 

Not wanting to disturb Impa and wanting a bit more privacy for what he was sure would be a heated argument, Dark urged Sienna to a secluded corner. 

He lowered his voice. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long.” 

Sienna frowned. “I was worried about you. Your note was not nearly detailed enough.” 

He flinched with guilt when her glare turned accusing. 

“I wanted to help,” Dark explained. At her stare, he relented. “And to be honest, I like him. I wanted to spend more time with him before he left for good.” 

Sienna sighed and placed her hand on his forearm. “I can’t blame you for that, much as you worried me. But, Dark, he has important things to do now. And we need to get back home where it’s safe. Right now isn’t a good time.” 

He couldn’t argue with her logic, but his thoughts rebelled all the same. “You’re right of course.” Dark shrugged a hand through his hair. “I just wish things were different.” 

She smiled sympathetically, stroking his arm in a soothing way. “If he is successful, they will be, won’t they?” 

Leaning over to kiss her forehead, he smiled. “Yes. Soon things will get back to normal. Where are your things? We can leave tomorrow.” 

No sooner had the words come out of his mouth than a chorus of shouts drew their attention. A horse was barreling down the street towards them at a full gallop, forcing unwitting citizens to leap out of the way. 

The rider was a young man in Sheikah garb, his face covered by a head wrap. He brought his mount to a sudden stop at Impa’s side, sliding gracefully onto the ground. 

“Impa,” the youth greeted her without preamble, his voice quiet but urgent. “Is Link here? I must speak with him immediately.” 

Impa turned and beckoned him and Sienna, who were already hurrying back. After introductions, Impa nodded at Dark. “He was traveling with Link. Perhaps he can enlighten us.” 

The Sheikah youth looked at Dark, a speck of surprise in his eyes disappearing so swiftly he must have imagined it. 

“Link was enlisted to help the Lon Lon family,” Dark said. “He left for the ranch a couple of hours ago. He asked me to stay behind.” 

“He left alone?” Impa inquired, though it wasn’t really a question. She scowled. “He should have waited for me to return.” 

Dark just shrugged, and Sienna tactfully observed that she had had other things on her plate. 

Deciding to return to Impa’s house to regroup, the four of them were crossing the town’s main street when a hollow boom sounded, reverberating through the air with its force. 

Before anyone could ask, Impa’s sharp eyes flicked to the great wooden gate, sealed at the village’s entrance. A second boom sounded, and the barrier shuddered. From her hip Impa drew a curved horn instrument, detailed with rough etchings. She blasted it three long times. 

“Grab your weapons,” she said to Dark and Sheik in a calm voice. She turned her gaze to Sienna. “Run to the library and tell Fayne we’re under attack. We need to evacuate immediately.” 

Sienna sprinted away without hesitation. Dark and Sheik faced the long, wide street towards the gate, weapons already in hand. 

At their approach one of Impa’s guards met them. 

“Our scouts were slain,” he informed her without wasting breath, his face pinched. “They hid just beyond the ridge until nightfall. It’s a small force of Gerudo and other desert warriors. And five Darknuts.” 

Another bang on the gate rocked the earth beneath them. Impa clenched her jaw. Summoned by her earlier call, Kakariko’s fighting men and women were arriving at the gate. Dark looked around at the faces, young and old, certain and nervous. 

He tried not to think about how ill-prepared they were, holding old, heavy blades and bows that could be snapped in half by hand. 

“They will break the gate eventually, Impa,” Mutoh warned, sidling up to them. “No matter how superior my construction.” 

“I don’t intend to let them break through it, Mutoh.” 

Fayne pushed her way through the crowd to Impa’s side. “Darunia heard the noise and came back,” she said breathlessly. “My warp point works, so he will make sure the others reach Goron City safely.” 

Impa nodded. Choosing not to announce her plans of attack, she climbed the guard ladder to the top of the gate, shouting down to those on the other side. 

“Do you really think this will reach a peaceful resolution?” Dark muttered to Sheik. 

Sheik turned his head. “We can hope.” 

**~oOo~**

Imara thumbed the handle of her dagger. It had been a gift from her mother. A token that many Gerudo received on the day they become fully fledged warriors. 

Behind her, the other warriors waited restlessly. The Gerudo among their numbers were stoic, but she knew underneath they were uneasy. Their faith in their king was diminishing. He increasingly relied on dark magic, and evil creatures such as the Darknuts bashing away at Kakariko’s gate. With every week that passed, he seemed to forget the traditions and honour of his own people. 

It was not in the Gerudo code to needlessly slaughter innocents. Yet here they were, following orders. 

Imara glanced at the desert nomads, mostly men but a few females, gathered behind her people. They had long ago backed Ganondorf, as he fed their desire for conquest and riches. Killing for gain did not bother them. 

A shout came down from the gate. The Darknuts stopped their attack. Imara looked up to see a familiar face. 

“Captain Imara,” the Sheikah woman said. 

“Mistress Impa. Open your gate, by order of King Ganondorf.” 

Impa remained silent, still as death atop the wall. Imara sighed. 

“If you do not,” she continued. “We have orders to slaughter every last soul in your village.” 

She nearly ground her teeth in frustration when not a muscle moved on Impa’s face. 

“12 hours,” was all the Sheikah said. 

Imara blew out a breath at the slight reprieve. Perhaps she could concoct a better plan in that time—one that would appease both her ruler and her conscience. 

She agreed, and Impa withdrew. Imara knew her decision was considered foolhardy by the desert dwellers, but the several of the Gerudo women caught her gaze. They did not want to fight a battle against unarmed opponents. 

On her command, Imara’s troops moved back and made camp in the valley. It would be a long night. 

**~oOo~**

Sleep would not come, even if he wished it to. The village had always been quiet, but this was too silent. With half her residents gone, Kakariko felt still and empty. 

Dark kept himself alert at his post near the well, wishing Sienna had gone with the others to Goron City. But she had skill as a healer, and had elected to stay behind. She slept now in Impa’s house. 

Come morning, he thought, Ganondorf’s forces would attack. At least not as many lives would be lost. 

A foreboding shiver raced down his neck, making the hairs spike. Feeling as though a ghost held its eyes on his back, Dark spun, eyes searching. 

A shape he’d taken for a shadow shimmered slightly in the darkness. He clenched the handle of his blade, ready for whoever might attack. 

The shadow wavered and dissipated without sound. The silence was so oppressive Dark could hear nothing but his own breath. 

The well exploded. 

Dark’s scream of alarm withered in his throat as he was flung through the air. He crashed into grass, stunned and unable to move. 

Sinuous, black shadows shot from the well, coiling and writhing like a mass of snakes. The apparition left a burning pyre in its wake as it dropped and slipped over the ground, silent and deadly. 

“What the--?” 

Dark hurried to his feet, staring down the insubstantial, smoke-like mass. Although it had no eyes, Dark had the sick feeling it was watching him, contemplating. 

It struck with blinding speed, wrapping him in its grip. Suspended by its unseen hands, Dark watched as it waved a tendril of ink before him, then plunged straight into his chest. 

Agony seared straight through him. Contorted from the pain, unable to escape whatever it was doing to him, Dark screamed until his voice was hoarse. 

When it swatted him away like a stray fly, he collided with the well, curling into a ball instinctively. Impa was at his side in moments, her hands on his shoulders. 

“Dark!” 

He wheezed and blinked his eyes, unable to see, unable to hear. His chest was on fire. It had ripped a tear in his soul. 

Visions swam before his eyes, fading to allow Impa’s frightened face through. He’d never seen her afraid. Impa’s image was replaced with others far more horrifying. Dark lashed out, pushing Impa aside in his terror. 

“They’re not real, Dark! None of it is real!” 

“What’s happened to him!?” 

Something firm pressed against his chest. Cool liquid flowed from it, soothing the white-hot burn inside. Dark gasped, blinking his eyes. 

Impa and Sienna sat before him, relief and fear battling on their faces. Sheik stood nearby with his back to them, a katana in his hands. 

“They’ve attacked early,” Sheik announced. “They’ve broken through the gate.” 

Impa cursed, pulling Dark and Sienna to their feet. “You two need to leave. Now.” 

Sheik looked at Impa. “You should head for the temple,” he advised her. 

Impa’s gaze was sharp. “I will not abandon my home and my people.” 

Sheik laid a hand on her arm. “We will do everything we can. But you know you must.” 

Impa’s face was drawn tight, but she finally nodded. “As you wish.” 

Confused by the exchange, Dark and Sienna watched Impa sheath her weapon and take off towards the graveyard. Sheik offered no explanation. 

“Can you fight?” he asked Dark. 

“Yes,” he answered, steadying himself. 

Sienna glared at him, but he smiled at her reassuringly. “Whatever that thing did, you fixed it.” 

“It will come back,” Sheik warned. “But we have other problems.” 

The pair of them escorted Sienna to the warehouse where Taver and a few others were keeping watch over the injured. Together, Sheik and Dark ran through the streets until they reached the heart of the brawl. 

The village square was a chaotic swarm of flesh and metal. Fayne, using her magic, had taken out two of the Darknuts, but the others were advancing. 

Dark and Sheik rushed to her side, three against three. Fayne whipped out her hand, a string of electricity fizzing at her fingertips. It struck the dark creature in the chest, tossing it backwards. 

Sheik palmed two of the knives strapped to his leg, throwing them with unerring accuracy into the Darknut’s visor. It stumbled, blinded, until Dark swung Deraphine into its neck, lopping off its head. 

Fayne’s Darknut howled as another lightning bolt shattered it, leaving nothing but dust behind. The final one swung its massive cleaver at Sheik, who dodged it gracefully. 

Dark swung, locking its sights on him as they traded blows. Bit by bit he cleaved its heavy armour away, revealing its weakness. Sheik flung another knife just as Fayne summoned more lightning. 

The magic wound around the projectile, carrying it straight to the creature’s heart. The Darknut wailed as it dropped to its knees, crumbling into a pile of black armor. 

“Nicely done!” Fayne cheered. 

But their victory was shortlived. Even with the Darknuts dispatched, they were outnumbered. Few of Kakariko’s fighters remained. The three of them surged into the throng, cutting down as many of their attackers as they could. 

A curved blade landed across Deraphine, making Dark look up. 

“There you are.” 

Imara stared back at him, her expression curiously blank. Dark tightened his grip on his sword. 

“What do you want?” 

“I have orders,” Imara intoned. Her voice was duller than he recalled. “You and the girl are to come with me.” 

Dark growled. “We aren’t going anywhere.” 

He lunged at her, knocking her blade aside. She countered, sidestepping his attack. Imara’s expression didn’t change, even in the heat of battle. 

As they traded blows, Dark felt the change in her strength, as well. It didn’t hurt his pride to admit Imara could overpower him, but when her fist connected with his face, it did hurt more than it should have. 

Dark tumbled back, swiping his fingers under his nose and finding blood. She’d nearly caved his head in with one punch. 

Imara swung her scimitar in a wide arc. Dark rolled aside, but the force of her blow sunk the blade into the hard-packed earth several inches. 

“What in Din’s name happened to you?! How the hell are you this strong?” 

Her response was an impressive kick to Dark’s face. 

“Hell,” he cursed, rubbing his jaw. 

When she charged him again, Dark melted into the shadows. Thrown off, Imara spun in a circle. Dark’s shadowy hands came up out of the ground and wrapped around her ankles. 

She faceplanted, scratching at the ground as Dark yanked her backwards through the dirt. She growled in indignation, managing to kick free from his hold. Before he could resurface, another figure shot from a nearby roof and tackled Imara. Impa wrestled her opponent, unsheathing her katana. 

The Gerudo captain and the Sheikah fighter clashed and circled each other in a familiar dance. Their movements were fluid, effortless—a flame and a shadow twirling around one another. 

Dark pulled himself out of the shadows, ready to join in the fight. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw movement. He raised his shield, but the black mass from the well drove right through it, pinning him down. 

A flash blinded him, making the well monster twitch indignantly. A man had appeared along with the light, his thin frame draped with a hooded cloak. Over his bony shoulder he carried someone unconscious. 

“Sienna!” Dark roared, fighting against the shadow monster. 

Alatar chuckled, turning to Impa, who had stopped her battle with Imara. “Your anti-warping spell is getting weaker,” he sneered. 

Impa took a step forward, but Alatar clicked his tongue. “One more and I’ll kill him.” 

The shapeless black cloud holding Dark pulsed. Impa halted. Imara stepped forward to relieve her of her weapon. 

Alatar gave her an oily smile. “Thank you for your cooperation.” He vanished with another blast of light, taking both Dark and Sienna with him. 

The well shadow reared up, swung in Impa’s direction, then took off with incredible speed, surging across the ground. It crashed into a dozen homes, leaving them aflame, before whipping out of sight behind a building. 

Imara released Impa suddenly, stepping out of reach of retaliation. “Retreat,” she commanded. 

Her voice was calm, but somehow all the Gerudo and desert fighters seemed to hear her. In perfect synchronization they halted their battles, stowing their weapons and turning for the destroyed gate. 

Imara, eyes vacant, turned and fled. Impa was tempted to give chase, but her priority was the village. 

“Douse the flames!” Mutoh shouted above the din. Already he lead a group of Kakariko’s fighters to the warehouse to retrieve their stores of water. 

Sheik intercepted Impa. “You need to go,” he urged her. “That thing from the well will be back.” 

“Yes,” she agreed. Her eyes swept over the burning buildings, the carnage in the square. 

Sheik pressed a hand to her arm. “I will do what I can to help. I promise.” 

She clasped his arm, meeting his crimson eyes. “Thank you. Guard the well.” 

Taking a step back, Impa tossed something onto the ground that exploded with blinding light. When Sheik could see again, she was gone. 

**~oOo~**

Link and Malon galloped into the village at full speed, clumps of dirt flying behind them. 

The village was in shambles. Rebel fighters ran in all directions, scrambling to put out the fires. Malon gasped behing him as she took in the remains of the battle. 

The grass was stained red in swaths. Kakariko’s square had been destroyed. Among the fallen were several piles of black armour. A handful of villagers were picking their way through, retrieving their dead. 

Link pulled Epona to a stop. She whinnied, unnerved by the scents of death. Link dismounted, rushing to meet Fayne, who was looking for wounded. 

“Link!” she pressed her palm to her chest. “Thank Farore, you’re alright!” 

Link gripped her shoulders. “Fayne, what happened?!” 

The magic-user lowered her head, blond lashes spiked with tears. “Ganondorf’s forces attacked us. They brought Darknuts with them.” She nodded towards the chunks of black armour. “They finally left…just retreated for no reason.” Fayne drew an uneven breath. 

“Where is Impa?” 

Fayne sniffled. “I’m not sure. She and Sheik went back to the well.” 

Link whipped back to Malon and Epona. Malon’s face was pale, her eyes wide. 

“Epona, take Malon to the mountain pass. There’s a warp point there to take her to safety.” 

Before Malon could protest, Epona took off. Link wrapped his hand around the Master Sword’s hilt and slid his arm into the leather loop behind the Hylian shield. 

Two turns later, the well was in his sights. Sheik was easy to spot amidst the commotion. He was motionless in a sea of panicked bodies. 

Link rushed up the steps, shocked to find the well blown to pieces. He approached Sheik. 

“Stay back, Link!” 

The fire’s searing heat made the alarm in Sheik’s eyes more intense. Behind them, a plume of smoke floated out of the well. 

Link looked again. No, not smoke… 

The shadow cloud flashed out, coiling around Sheik. He cried out as it carried him upwards in a torrent, tossing him away from the well. 

Sheik landed hard in the grass below the stairs with a sickening crunch. 

“Sheik!” 

Link skated down the steps, bending to check Sheik’s pulse. An uneasy pulse thrummed beneath Link’s fingers. He blew out a breath of relief. 

Navi shivered, the blue light of her wings paling. Link heeded the warning and renewed his grip on his sword and shield. He stepped in front of Sheik, raising the shield to protect them both. 

The shadow, whatever it was, rippled around him, blocking him in on all sides. Without warning it angled and crashed into a nearby house, smashing it to pieces and leaving more burning wreckage in its wake. 

Link held his ground and grit his teeth. He wasn’t sure how he could defeat something non-corporeal, but he had to try. 

With a spine-rippling howl, it spun and aimed straight for him—a black spear. It collided with the Hylian shield, easily knocking it away and Link to the ground. 

Before he could stand, the thing picked him up, dragging him through the dirt. Link kicked and flailed but it was no use. The monster flicked him aside like a pest. 

Link hit the dirt, his vision going cloudy, then spotty. Then there was nothing but blackness.


	39. Tower of Winds

Aalrian stood at attention next to the throne. Her back muscles ached from standing so long. She wished the diminutive, bespectacled man cowering at her master’s feet would hurry up already. 

As it was, Ganondorf himself looked positively bored. He even yawned unabashedly. The sight caused the small minister delivering his report to speak even faster. Everyone knew the king abhorred these reports and updates. He was a war lord, not a minister, and had little interest in the day-to-day running of the kingdom he’d conquered. Still, it had to be done. 

“The drought has reached Ordon province, my lord, and—“ 

Ganondorf cut him off. “Yes, yes. You’ve told me once already.” 

The Hylian minister squeaked, lowering his eyes to his papers and moving onto the next item. He was one of the few that the king hadn’t had executed. Aalrian was sure he didn’t want to be the next. 

“The Zora of the Southern province, my lord, they have rebuffed your ambassador once again. They refuse to pay tribute to your lordship.” 

Ganondorf grunted. “Hmph. Then it’s high time we do what needs to be done. Send troops down south.” 

The little man blinked. “To war, sire? But we have not the funds—“ 

“Silence! You’re so concerned with trivial things, Wexley. The Gerudo do not need funds to start a war. The Gerudo fight to conquer, not for riches.” 

“But the other tribes, my lord...they have not been paid in some time.” 

Ganondorf growled in answer. Wexley wisely silenced himself. 

Although captain Aalrian paid little attention to the man’s ramblings, she couldn’t help the gnawing worry that had taken up residence in her gut. It seemed to make itself known at these particular moments, when her concentration was focused inward and there was nothing going on around her to steal her attention. 

She looked down at the minister, busy shuffling his papers back into order and making a hasty retreat. His too-large glasses slipped off his nose as he bowed low, and he scurried to retrieve them. 

Of all the former ministers, Wexley seemed like the least likely to be in charge of governing Hyrule. But he had assured them that his mathematical and analytical skills were unparalleled. To boot, he was extremely organized about his affairs, if not his person. 

As the door closed behind Wexley’s small frame, Ganondorf rubbed his temples tiredly. “I can’t stand it,” he muttered. 

Aalrian blurted, “Wexley?” 

He didn’t seem to notice. “Hearing about all of the plights of the people.” Ganondorf scoffed, mimicking Wexley’s squeaky voice, “There’s a drought in the south, sire. The crops will not sustain us through the winter, sire.” Ganondorf grunted in disgust. “Pathetic. I conquered this land for my people, not to hear our enemies complain.” 

Aalrian shifted behind him. Like all the others, she had been bewitched by this man’s vision of a better future for the Gerudo tribe. They were warriors—why not take the plentiful land just beyond their borders for themselves? They shouldn’t have to wallow in the desert in exile. Ganondorf had ignited the fires of revenge in his people’s hearts, and it had won them the war against Hyrule. 

Once the dust had settled, the Gerudo had convinced themselves that coexistence was possible with their own people in power and the Hylians paying them the homage they so richly deserved. For a while, it had seemed to work. 

But Ganondorf had imposed Gerudo laws upon the Hylians, and they had revolted. In retaliation, Ganondorf had begun executing at will. It effectively put an end to thoughts of peace or coexistence. 

The Gerudo leader had proceeded to rule Hyrule with an iron fist, reaping the benefits of power and ignoring the responsibilities of a king little by little. Hylian soldiers and officials he’d coerced into service ran the country for him while he imposed his will on the resistant Hylian people. 

Ganondorf’s situation was worsened by his obsessions: the missing Hylian Princess who still eluded him and the strange forest kid the king had convinced himself was a major threat. Ganondorf’s days were spent on the hunt for his most hated enemies. His nights were wasted with nightmares. 

She glanced sideways at him as he brooded. His health had returned thanks to Alatar, but the sickness of his mind remained, hovering in the eyes. 

Aalrian, like her sisters, had blinded herself to the realities of their tyrannical rule. But now it became harder to ignore what was really happening. 

Ganondorf was slowly killing all of them. The Hylians starved in the burned-out remains of their villages, plundered by the brutish desert tribes Ganondorf had sent to enforce his laws. The Gerudo wasted within the walls of their castle, comfortable but ignorant. 

Aalrian’s grip on her spear tightened. This could not be allowed to continue. If nothing changed soon, demise would come for them all—Hylians and Gerudo alike. 

With the darkness covering the land, the sun had vanished. Now there was hardly any food. Their desert cousins took what they wanted, growing increasingly independent of Gerudo control. Monsters grew in numbers, becoming more dangerous, even to Gerudo. 

“Aalrian,” Ganondorf cut in sharply. 

“Yes, sire?” 

“What is the report on Imara’s campaign? That is something I am interested in.” 

Aalrian shifted and stepped down in front of him to deliver her report. “She was successful, my lord. She has the lad and one other as her prisoner. They expect to have returned by tomorrow nightfall.” 

“Hmm. That will have to do.” He paused, hands idly stroking the sleek metal arm of the throne. He turned to her. “Fetch Alatar for me. I must speak with him.” 

The captain nodded, bowing with one closed fist over her heart in Gerudo style. As she was departing, Ganondorf tossed one last inquiry at her. 

“Where is the Sheikah?” 

She halted, conveying Imara’s latest message. “With Imara. He will accompany her party.” 

The king was silent for so long she thought he hadn’t heard her. 

She opened her mouth to repeat herself when he said, “I see. You are dismissed.” 

Aalrian followed quickly in Wexley’s footsteps, sensing that the king wanted his solitude. The doors closed over the formidable figure of the warrior king, head bent in contemplation as he sat upon the throne he had conquered in the name of his people. 

**~oOo~**

When he awoke inside a prison cell, he wasn’t altogether surprised. 

Dark sat up and gingerly felt the back of his head where a bruise was forming. The slippery little sorcerer had clocked him good the moment they’d warped. Dismayed to find Sienna was nowhere to be seen, he stood and felt his way around in the semi-darkness. 

A circular room constructed of stone. A tower, then, most likely. There was one small window that an average-sized person would have trouble peering out of. Dark crossed to it and used his height to full advantage. 

The drab silhouette of Hyrule Castle could be seen in the distance, atop its hill, overlooking her defeated kingdom. Dark estimated the distance, judging that he must be several miles north of Castle Town. Even further from Kakariko. 

It meant nothing if he couldn’t escape from this tower. A rattle behind him announced the arrival of his jailer. 

Dark shielded his eyes from the sudden light from the fireball the sorcerer held in his palm. 

“Ah, you’re awake,” the mage said, as if Dark were a mere guest in his home. “Welcome to my humble dwelling.” 

Dark snorted through his nose. “What exactly is this place?” 

The sorcerer sighed. “Nothing but ruins, now. It’s a shame, really.” The man raised his hand to better illuminate the space, the arm of his robe sliding back to reveal a skinny arm. “This tower was built by a long-dead tribe to house their treasures. But many years ago it was used as the home of another great sorcerer.” 

Dark didn’t reply. He had the feeling this mage liked to hear himself talk. 

He inhaled, puffing his thin chest. He looked like a frail old man, but Dark wasn’t fooled. 

“Have you ever heard of the Wind Sorcerer?” his jailer asked. “Vaati? This used to be his tower. It is too bad it has fallen into such ruin. All of his work—vanished.” 

“Shame,” Dark muttered, uncaring. 

The mage narrowed his eyes. “I am called Alatar.” Dark crossed his arms, disinterested. Alatar’s eyes flashed. “And you are the first son of the soldier, the late Naron and his wife, Shaiya.” 

Dark jerked around. “How do you know that?” 

Alatar chuckled like gasping fish. “I know a great deal about you and your bothersome sibling. I have many gifts.” 

“Is that why you abducted me? And Sienna, where is she?” 

“She has been moved to Hyrule Castle. I have no use for her,” Alatar sniffed. “You will prove much more useful.” 

“For what?” 

Alatar’s falcon eyes flicked over Dark’s face. “Let’s call it an experiment I have long awaited to attempt. One you are a perfect test subject for.” 

Before Dark could make a snarky reply, Alatar lowered his hand, dimming the light. 

“I shall return,” he informed Dark. “When we are ready to begin.” 

The mage exited the cell, locking the heavy door behind him. Dark turned back to face the window, his mind hard at work on an escape plan. 

**~oOo~**

Link woke in the familiar comfort of Impa’s house with he worst headache he’d ever experienced. 

“Link!” Navi’s voice trilled in his ear. “You’re awake!” 

Link winced. “Yes, I am. Volume, Navi.” 

“Sorry. How do you feel?” 

“Sore. What happened?” 

Navi’s mouth opened, but Sheik’s low voice answered the question. “You were knocked unconscious by the shadow creature in the well.” 

Link’s gaze swung to Sheik. “I’m glad to see you’re okay.” 

Sheik nodded. “Kakariko is safe once again. The villagers have returned—they could not stay in Goron City for long. Your friend Malon is unharmed.” 

Link swung out of bed, stretching his limbs to ease the aches and pains. “What was that thing?” 

“An evil spirit trapped long ago in the well by Impa. I believe it managed to break free due to Ganondorf’s influence weakening Impa’s protection on the village.” 

“It’s not still out there, is it?” Link’s eyes darted to the windows. 

“No. We are safe for now.” 

Link heaved a sigh. “Where is everyone else?” he asked. 

Though he couldn’t see most of Sheik’s face, his eyebrows pinched together as if in pain. “Link, the villagers are all safe…but your friends Dark and Sienna were abducted. I believe they were taken to Hyrule Castle.” 

“What?!” Link reached for his weapon instinctively but grabbed only air. He spotted it next to the bed and bolted for it. “I have to go help them!” 

Sheik blocked his path. “I understand, Link, but there are more urgent matters at hand.” 

Link paused, the Master Sword hanging at his side. “What else happened while I was out?” he asked with dread. 

“Impa has gone to the Shadow Temple to defeat the evil spirit, but I fear she will be in danger.” Sheik met his eyes squarely. “Impa is one of the six Sages—just like Rauru, Saria and Darunia. You must aid her.” 

“But, Link!” Navi chimed in, “You still need to bring the blue fire to Zora’s Domain and unfreeze King Zora!” 

When Link repeated as much for Sheik’s benefit, he began to pace, which was an unusual display of emotion for him. 

“In truth, I came here to tell you the important information I had discovered,” he told Link. “Soon after I arrived, however, the village was attacked.” He halted his pacing. 

His shoulders slumped. “What do I do, Sheik? I want to help Impa, and save my friends, but the Zora need my help as well. I can’t be in that many places at once!” 

Sheik crossed his arms, tapping his knuckles against his bicep. “Trying to rescue your friends from Ganondorf’s stronghold now would be foolhardy. And the curse on Zora’s Domain is growing stronger—it has sapped the water from Hyrule’s rivers and lakes, endangering everyone.” 

Sheik’s brows pinched again. “Rescue King Zora, then head for Lake Hylia. The entrance to the Water Temple can be found there. Once you break the curse, you can return here to help Impa. In the meantime, I will do my best to assist her.” 

Link hesitated, weighing the options. “Are you certain?” 

Sheik let his arms fall, then shifted on his feet, wavering. Then he put a hand on Link’s shoulder. “Yes, Impa is strong, and the Zora need you. As does the rest of Hyrule. And I promise you, once you have awakened all the Sages, we will rescue your friends.” 

Link smiled at his friend. “Thanks, Sheik.” 

The Sheikah blinked, then stepped away with another nod. “You should leave at once.” 

Link agreed. “It will take some time to get to Lake Hylia and back, even on Epona.” 

Sheik asked Link to wait, then briefly left the room. When he returned, he held a small golden harp in his hands. 

“The temples are connected by ancient magic,” Sheik explained. “I can teach you a melody that will warp you back here to Kakariko, near the entrance of the Shadow Temple. That will save you some time.” 

Sheik raised the harp, plucking the string expertly. A mournful melody poured out, embracing Link in cold arms. He shivered involuntarily as Sheik continued to play, the song strangely soothing as a lullaby, as if dragging him into a sleep from which he would never wake. 

“The Nocturne of Shadow,” Sheik explained, lowering the instrument. “If you play it on the Ocarina of Time, it will take you to Impa and the temple.” 

Link shook himself free from the nocturne’s echoes. 

“I’ll leave as soon as I’m able,” he said. 

Sheik stowed the harp. “Then until we meet again,” he replied, taking a step back from Link. 

Prepared this time, Link shielded his eyes at the flash of light that enveloped Sheik. When he opened his eyes once more, he was gone. 

**~oOo~**

Dark’s captor wasn’t very imaginative when it came to breaking his spirit. It had been a week, he estimated, of isolation in the tower room. He was given just enough food and water to keep him alive. 

He wavered between sleeping and wakefulness, keeping track of time through the solitary window. When Dark slept, he was often stirred awake by an uneasy feeling, his adrenaline flooding his system. 

Every time this happened, though, the room was as empty as always. 

Aside from feeling tired and hungry, Dark did everything he could think of to keep his mind sharp. 

So when Alatar visited him next, he didn’t experience the terror he was sure the mage wanted. Sure enough, he frowned in disappointment when he saw Dark, standing tall instead of slumped, defeated. 

“Hmmph,” was all the sorcerer said. 

He glanced at Dark’s window, then with a swipe of his palm, made it vanish, replacing it with stone. He considered his prisoner, then snapped his fingers as if Dark was a dog he wanted to summon. 

Metal shackles materialized around Dark’s wrists, ankles and neck, pulled by an invisible force towards Alatar. Fighting every step of the way, Dark danced like a demented marionette to his captor’s side. 

“You think this will work any better?” Dark asked, trying to sound bored. 

Alatar’s beetle eyes gleamed. He moved his left hand in a short gesture. The manacles blazed bright orange, burning his skin until he collapsed to his knees and screamed. 

Alatar ended the spell, bending down to inspect the raw, red blisters on Dark’s wrists. He drew a small bottle of red potion from his robes and handed it to him. With shaking hands Dark took it, tearing away the cork with his teeth. 

The burns healed the instant the potion touched his tongue. 

“Understand?” the mage asked in his hoarse whisper of a voice. “Come.” 

Yanked along by the manacles, Dark was dragged from his prison cell to the stairwell. Alatar led him down, past the ground floor and underground. 

As the air became damp and earthen, the passageway narrowed until Dark had to stoop to fit through. Why did mages prefer such small spaces? 

In the complete darkness, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. Dim, blue light appeared after a blink. The temperature dropped a few degrees. Blue fire. 

Dark and Alatar emerged in a room even smaller than his tower room. The ceiling was low enough he couldn’t straighten up. In its centre was a large rock, smooth and inky as obsidian. Gathered around its base was a ring of the magical fire, dousing the room in cool, eerie light. 

“What the hell?” Dark muttered. 

Alatar walked to his work table, ignoring Dark. The manacles activated again, dragging their struggling prisoner to the stone. Pulled onto his back over the rock, Dark shifted when the freezing surface touched his skin. 

He shivered involuntarily, feeling the restraints, colder now, tighten around him. 

Alatar appeared at his side, a pale vulture. Dark tried to wrench away when he raised his skeletal hands but was held still. The mage slit the front of Dark’s shirt, ripping it free. The cold was even worse against his bare back. 

From yet another unseen pocket of his clothes, Alatar produced a knife—black as the rock and viciously sharp. Faster than Dark thought possible of the old sorcerer, he scraped the blade criss-cross over Dark’s chest, above his heart. 

Dark glanced down after the sting of pain passed. “Is that it?” 

Unamused, his captor wiped the knife on his fingers. With the few drops of blood he’d collected, Alatar traced a symbol Dark couldn’t see above his head on the rock’s face. 

With his ceremony complete, Alatar stowed the knife and exited the room, closing the wooden door behind him. 

“Now what?” Dark growled. 

The blue fire burned on, flickering silently. Dark tested the manacles. They wouldn’t budge. The cold was beginning to make his breath appear in the air, a haze of white. 

A shadow shivered on the wall. He couldn’t turn his head all the way to see what it was. 

The silence made his teeth clench. Every breath was damp and cold in his lungs. 

He might have lapsed into a fitful sleep from the chill; he wasn’t sure. But when the whispering started, he startled as if he’d been fast asleep. 

Just out of earshot, the many voices grew closer but stayed out of reach. With soft hisses, whoever they belonged to moved closer. At his right, his eyes caught the movement, and this time he knew what it was. 

The shadow creature—still just a black mass of smoke—hovered close. It had no eyes; but he knew it watched him. 

Its voice was the loudest, a scratchy, indistinct whisper. A formless arm detached from the body, stretching towards him. 

His limbs were so cold they wouldn’t move when he commanded them. Fear hit him like a splash of ice water. 

The shadow reached for the shallow wounds on his chest. Dark thrashed so violently the manacles creaked, leaving red welts behind as they scraped away skin. 

The shadow smothered him. It swallowed his screams, pulsing in its hunger for more. It clawed at the mark over his heart, eager to eat its way inside. He was drowning; when he inhaled there was no air. 

His blood flooded with heat as his magic activated itself to save his life. His relief was stamped out by panic as for the second time he felt that electric, sizzling force awaken alongside it. 

Orange lightning sparked in his hands, striking without restraint and without mercy. It filled the small room, destroying everything but the black rock. The mage’s work table was reduced to ash. The door cracked into splinters. The earthen walls crumbled. 

The strange magic rebounded inside the room, seeking its next target, until Dark’s magic was completely depleted. 

His straining limbs relaxed, and he fell back against the rock, unable to move. The shadow was still there, coiled inside Dark’s chest like an inky snake. The magic had completely skipped over it. 

Dark didn’t even have the energy to muster a disappointed groan. 

“It would seem I was right,” Alatar’s creepy tones came from the doorway. 

He moved to Dark’s side, eyes alight with excitement. It was a frightening look. The mage pulled out his knife again, ready to start. 

The shadows reared up, caressing the blade with their smoky fingers. Dark grunted when the blade cut deeper, widening the ‘x’ cut. 

“Now that your magic is spent, I can begin,” Alatar mused. 

Dark fought off a wave of horror. “Begin?” he croaked. “Begin what?” 

Seeming to enjoy explaining himself, Alatar said, “When I was young, I received a vision from the gods. My vision told me that one day those of us who embrace the darkness would reign over Hyrule, all thanks to the help of one man.” 

As he spoke, he continued to slice into Dark methodically and slowly. Each pass skewered a little deeper, roughening the edges of the wound. Dark tensed and gasped each time, the pain sapping his strength. 

“Yet I had another vision of this man brought to his knees by another man. A soldier.” Alatar paused to flick excess blood off the blade. “I learned the soldier’s name and instructed my master where to find him.” 

The words stuttered in Dark’s raw throat, but the mage translated for him. 

“Yes. The soldier’s name was Naron; your father. Once I heard of your survival, my lord began having dreams of his demise. He would not achieve his goals while you lived.” 

Dark’s eyes were tipping back in his head. Dizziness made him feel foggy. 

“I live to serve my master,” Alatar wheezed, making a final pass with the knife. With each cut, the shadow had been burrowing deeper, spreading like venom in his veins. “Imara revealed to me that you can wield Shadow magic. And perhaps something more...” 

The sorcerer’s eyes flicked to the ruined work table. “I knew then I could use you to my advantage.” 

It was so cold Dark couldn’t feel anything but the pain of the knife. His chest burned with fire. Whatever the mage was doing, he had to stop it. But he had no strength left. 

“When you awaken,” Alatar promised. “We will begin.” 

Dark let his eyes close, and the cold and blackness engulfed him.


	40. Twilight

Sienna’s heart thundered with fear as she was marched into what was formerly Hyrule Castle. 

The Gerudo soldiers nudged her forward and she bit back a fresh flood of tears. After their capture, the sorcerer had taken Dark away to Din knew where. Sienna sniffed and set her jaw, gathering her courage. 

A woman in red Gerudo garb came up to meet them, addressing the woman in front of Sienna. 

“Imara, you’re back. And with prisoners?” 

“Alatar has taken his captive already. I must inform Lord Ganondorf,” Imara replied in a dull tone. 

The Gerudo captain blinked in surprise. “Are you alright, Imara? Did the battle go poorly?” 

“Please step aside,” Imara continued, not even looking at Aalrian. “I must report to Lord Ganondorf.” 

Without a look back, she retreated upstairs. She called down to Sienna’s guards to escort her to the dungeons. Robotically, they began herding her towards a smaller staircase off the main hall. 

Aalrian watched their progress with unease, but Sheik’s arrival interrupted her. 

“Sheik,” she greeted him. “How went the battle?” 

The Sheikah paused, glancing at Sienna and her guards. 

“Sheik!?” Sienna gasped. “What are you doing here?!” 

Sheik turned away, ignoring Sienna’s plights to help her as she was dragged downstairs to the dungeons. 

“We completed our mission,” Sheik said to Aalrian, who was looking after Sienna with a measure of pity. “Excuse me, but I must speak with Lord Ganondorf.” 

Aalrian seized Sheik’s arm as he started to climb the steps, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Wait. I noticed…Imara seems upset. Did something happen?” 

He glanced back at Aalrian, his gaze as unreadable as ever. “Not that I observed.” He paused, shifting back as if to end the conversation, but he abruptly leaned close to her. She stared into his unnerving crimson eyes. A slow breath expanded his chest and he finally said, “Be careful, Aalrian.” 

Confused, she watched the Sheikah dart upstairs with his unusual speed. Be careful? She wondered. 

Be careful of what? 

**~oOo~**

When Dark opened his eyes, the sky was red. 

He shot up from his prone position, alarmed and then regretful as agony seared through his chest. Laying back down, he waited for the pain to pass. When he could move, he did so slowly, feeling as if every rib had been broken. 

It took some time for his eyes to adjust. Wherever he was, it wasn’t Hyrule. 

The twilight sky blazed red and orange, as if the absent sun had only just slipped away. A greyish haze drifted across the horizon, too insubstantial to be clouds but not quite smoke. 

The ground seemed to be dirt, but it was black, rolling in small hills as far as Dark could see. He stood on one such hill, dressed in his usual tunic and trousers. After a quick inventory, he found no injuries, though his chest still throbbed, and none of his weapons. 

Dark chuckled derisively. Whatever that mage, Alatar, had planned for, it would seem he hadn’t succeeded. 

With little else to do he started walking. The landscape changed so little it was as though he was walking in place on a futile journey. After an hour, when a structure interrupted the harsh black and red vista, Dark nearly collapsed from the growing pain. 

The structure turned out to be a shack in the lonely sea of red sky and black earth. It was better than nothing. On the other side he found a well, and Dark dropped to the ground, pulling up a bucket of water and leaning against the stone to enjoy it. 

He sighed, closing his eyes. The light from the sky hadn’t dimmed at all; it seared his eyelids. 

“What are you?” 

Dark jumped so bad he threw the bucket from his hands, splashing water everywhere. 

A child stood a few feet away, watching him. But she watched with bright orange eyes, as intense as the sky above her. Her skin tone was a soft, pale blue, almost like a Zora. It contrasted with the colour of her eyes, giving her a striking appearance. 

Curious, she took a step closer, looking him over. “What are you?” she asked again. 

Dark swallowed. “I should ask you the same thing.” 

She grinned, showing off brilliant teeth that were a bit too sharp. “You’re from the other side, aren’t you?” she guessed, very proud of herself. “You look a bit like them.” 

Dark stilled. “The other side?” 

“I forget what it’s called,” she replied, sitting across from him, uncaring of any danger he might pose. “It’s where people like you live. Only you look a little different from them.” 

Catching on, Dark relaxed his pose. “You mean Hylians? Most have blonde hair, fair skin, with ears like mine?” 

“Yes!” She pointed excitedly to her own pointed ears. They were longer than most Hylians’. “Hylians,” she repeated. “That’s it. But you look funny.” 

Dark laughed through his nose. “Well, I’m only part Hylian. My father was half-Hylian.” He paused, not wanting to talk about his father. He switched gears. “Where are we?” 

The child leaned back on her hands, tilting her head to look up. “We call it the Twilight,” she told him. 

Dark glanced up at the ominous sky. “It’s always like this?” 

“Mm-hm. The Elders say time doesn’t work the same here.” 

“I see.” 

“Are you lost?” 

Dark looked back at the child. “I suppose so. You wouldn’t know how to get back to the…other side, would you?” 

The girl frowned. “There’s a way to get back, but not anymore.” 

“Why not?” 

She stood up, dusting off the tunic she wore. Bringing her hands together, she murmured under her breath until orange sparks buzzed between her fingers. She opened her palms, letting a smoky orb form. 

Dark’s jaw dropped open. “You have it too!?” 

The girl scowled. “I’m concentrating,” she admonished him. “This isn’t easy to do.” 

Dark scrambled forward, startling the girl. She dropped her hands. 

“Wait! Show me again, please?” 

Summoning the orb again, Dark watched in amazement as it grew bigger, clearing until it showed him images of a vast black palace, surrounded by red sky. The image changed to one of an enormous silver mirror, its surface rippling like water, reflecting strange symbols. 

“That’s the only way back,” the girl explained. “But you can’t get there right now because of the blight.” 

“The blight?” 

“A long time ago something bad happened, and now we can’t get to where the mirror is because of a big barrier that keeps people out. It hurts you if you touch it,” she added sadly. “The Elders say it only covers a small part of our world, but that it’s here because of something evil from your world.” 

Dark watched as she dispelled the magic. So Ganondorf’s influence had reached even this parallel world? Fierce had spoken about the effects of the king’s evil. How it had spread to infect the Sacred Realm as well as Hyrule. But Dark knew little about the Sacred Realm, other than the legends and that it was supposedly the home of the gods and all those who had left the physical world. 

His attention snapped back to the girl. “That magic…how do you know it?” 

She looked at him as if he were simple. “It’s Twili magic,” she replied. “All of my people can do it.” 

Dark opened his mouth, then closed it, hesitating. “I…I’ve used that magic before,” he admitted. 

Her orange eyes grew huge. “That’s why you look funny!” she crowed. “Maybe you’re a Twili, like me, really.” 

He chuckled. “I’m not sure. Maybe.” 

“Maybe you’re not lost,” she mused, studying his face from very close. Even sitting, he was a few inches taller than her standing. “You should stay here with me.” 

Dark smiled. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m afraid I can’t. Someone back in my world needs my help.” 

Her shoulders dropped, but she nodded solemnly. “I understand.” 

“Can you take me to where the mirror is? I might be able to find a way back or at least some clues to another passage. And I need a good guide in this place,” he added with a wink. 

With a proud smile, she stood up straighter. “You can count on me.” 

He grinned. “Great.” 

“Get ready. We have a long way to go!” 

**~oOo~**

Thanks to Epona’s speed, Link and Navi had reached Zora’s Domain in less than a day. 

It had only taken one bottle of the blue fire to melt the ice imprisoning the Zora king, but it could not lift the curse on the aquatic race’s frozen home. 

After reviving, King Zora had profusely thanked Link, going so far as to gift him a set of Zora-made armour. Constructed with scales of their kind, the metal armour was surprisingly light but strong. King Zora had assured him it would allow Link to move seamlessly underwater, as well as breathe underwater with the help of specially made mask to cover his mouth and nose. 

With his new armour in hand, Link warped himself, Navi and Epona back to Kakariko with the help of the ocarina and the Nocturne of Shadow. 

When the song’s last melancholic notes faded, Link opened his eyes to see the still, quiet graveyard. Taking Epona’s reins, he guided her back to Impa’s house, where he hoped to find Sheik waiting for him. 

To his dismay, the Sheikah boy was nowhere to be found, but he’d left a note confirming he’d gone to assist Impa and that Link should travel to Lake Hylia. Underneath the note Sheik had left a sheet of ocarina music. 

Link stabled Epona at Impa’s house, then wandered through the village until he tracked down Malon. She immediately agreed to watch Link’s horse until he returned. She and her father would be staying in Kakariko for now, helping the townspeople rebuild and caring for the refugees who came in from all over Hyrule. 

Satisfied that they could carry on without him for now, Link studied the sheet music, committing the song to memory before raising the ocarina to his lips. 

A romantic serenade poured out, smooth and enchanting. It lifted higher and higher, then sweeping lower for a playful dip before climbing again. The magical song swirled around Link, leading him to the shores of a beautiful lake. 

“Whoa,” Navi murmured, spinning in a 360. 

They’d landed on an island in the middle of the vast lake. On all sides they were surrounded by towering, slate-grey cliffs, except due south where it broke into a canyon pass. 

Link stepped off the pedestal he stood on—the warp point they’d come through—and looked around. The water had nearly dried up; the sandy bottom made the place look more like a wasteland than a lush lake. 

“It’s getting worse,” he said, kneeling to look at the wilting grass under his boots. 

“Mm-hm,” Navi said, buzzing over. “Shouldn’t be hard to find the entrance to the Water Temple without all the water, though.” 

Connected to the island was a series of rope bridges which led back to shore. The area was left natural save for a large house with a tower near the mouth of the Hylia River and another building on the far side of the shore. 

When he rapped on the door of the lakeside house, a stopped old man answered. He peered up at Link with bulging eyes and a smile that had seen fuller days. 

“Hello, young man!” the old man squeaked. “Can I help you?” 

“Er...” Link tried to hide his shock at the man’s appearance. 

“Come in, come in.” The old man puttered inside, his remaining wisps of white hair floating behind him. 

Link shut the door behind him, looking around at the strange house’s interior. There were shelves anchored to each wall, cluttered with odd instruments, potions and bottles of scientific specimens. Link examined a few of eerie creatures he’d never seen before. He stopped when he saw a specimen that he swore was a shrunken human head. 

“Welcome to my lakeside laboratory,” the old man said cheerily. “I’m studying the properties of Lake Hylia’s waters...though that’s trickier nowadays with the drought. Do you know latest samples of lake water have actually shrunk my—” 

“Do you know anything about the Water Temple?” Link cut in. 

“The Water Temple?” the old scientist scratched at the bald spot on top of his head. “Not much. Long before I set up shop, there was a permanent Zora colony here, but they were completely wiped out during the war.” 

Link’s shoulders slumped. “And the temple?” 

The old man busied himself at his work table over a large pot. “If it is indeed here, I have never found it. Care for some soup, young man? I made it myself this morning.” 

Judging by the smells wafting from the soup pot, Link declined. 

The old man slurped from his bowl, smacking his lips over his few remaining teeth. “You could search the ruins, just down the beach from here. Can’t miss them. The Zora might have left some clues behind.” 

Thanking him profusely, Link left before the scientist could offer him anything else. After a short hike down the beach, Link took off his hat to let Navi out. 

A dozen square stone columns in various stages of decay dotted the shoreline, leading out into the water. The lake’s true water line was etched in algae on the columns’ base. While Navi deciphered the Zora symbols written on the stone, Link examined the stone walkway embedded between the rows. 

“Maybe there’s a secret code,” he mused, pressing the tiles that looked the most worn in random orders. 

“I think it’s just some kind of altar,” Navi replied with a huff of frustration. “A place to pray or meditate. These symbols aren’t telling me anything.” 

Link pulled out his ocarina and played a few notes, but nothing happened. He looked up at the island in the distance, considering the warp point. There was a similar one in the Temple of Time as well as in Saria’s Sacred Grove. And when he’d played the Nocturne of Shadow, the spell had left them on a stone pedestal in the graveyard. 

His gaze bobbed between the ocarina in his hands and the island before he jumped up. 

“Navi!” 

“What?” 

“The warp songs, they always bring us to specific warp points.” 

Navi shrugged. “Yeah, they’re tied to those particular points.” 

“What if they’re also connected to the temples?” 

The glow from her wings brightened. “Let’s get back over there!” 

When a search of the island turned up nothing of interest, Link donned the Zora armour and slid down the bank into the water. 

True to King Zora’s word, the armour made breathing underwater as natural as if Link himself were a Zora. Though it was murky, he could see well enough to reach the bottom. Scanning the base of the island, he picked out a darker area where the water was deeper. Swimming for it, Link felt a subtle drop in temperature. He was swimming through a tunnel that went beneath the island, now. Light vanished, making even his enhanced underwater eyesight almost useless. 

After a few minutes of swimming blindly, Link’s outstretched hand collided with something hard and metallic. He drew back, squinting through the darkness. Stray tendrils of seaweed floated around him like ghosts, venturing close and then slinking back. A black grid in the greyish gloom was the metal gate he’d crashed into, overgrown with algae. 

Above the gate, something blue flashed when he turned his head. It was a jewel—a small sapphire. Behind it was some kind of mechanism; a lock, a maybe? Link dug his fingers into the grooves around it but couldn’t pry it free. 

Reaching for the hookshot, he tried using the sharp point of the weapon to dislodge the gem key. It popped free, the gem floating free from its lock. The key had been shaped to resemble a fish, the sapphire its head. Below was the round keyhole, cleared of algae and debris. 

Link turned the sapphire key in the lock, the returned it to its setting as the gate shuddered open. He swam past the gate just before it dropped closed again. Someone had come through this way—recently. 

Stowing his hookshot and steeling his courage, Link swam forward into the murky blackness.


	41. The Water Temple

There was finally light. Faint, shimmering shafts of it cut through the cloudy water, hailing the end. 

Link kicked harder, propelling himself to the surface. Breaking it, he breathed air in, ripping aside the mask over his face. After clambering over the ledge he freed Navi from the airtight bottle he’d stowed her in while they were underwater. 

She took a few delicate gulps of fresh air, searching their surroundings for information. 

“What do you think?” Link asked. 

They’d emerged into what seemed to be the temple’s centre, a chute that stretched high above their heads and dropped well below their feet on the other side of the passage. A rectangular stone column dominated its centre, cut with multiple ledges wide enough to walk on. One level above and directly across, a door indicated the column’s interior was hollowed out. 

Navi floated out over the gap between where Link was standing and the next ledge. “The water level is down at the bottom,” she announced. “It’s almost dry; I can see sand.” 

Link noted a pair of torches, already lit, casting light against the wall of the chamber. The whole place was illuminated as if it were daylight, through a combination of torches and artificial sunlight sconces. The decorative quality of these was similar to what he’d seen in Zora’s Domain. 

“Someone must be here,” Link called to his fairy companion, mentioning the gate as well. 

Navi’s wings pulsed with light briefly. “Whoever they are, they’re friendly.” 

Using the hookshot, Link lowered himself to the ground floor, following the path set by the lit torches. Turning right down a narrow passageway, etched with Zora designs, Link found himself in a small, underground chamber which vaulted upwards to more floors unknown. 

Standing in its centre was a female Zora. She turned at his approach, her violet eyes widening in delighted surprise. 

“Link!” 

He paused. Her face was familiar to him, but he couldn’t place it at first. 

“Do I know you?” 

She laughed, tossing her head back. “Don’t be silly!” she admonished him with a playful wave of her hand. She rested it against her hip, her fins fanning out artfully. “It’s me, Princess Ruto, your wife-to-be!” 

“Um…” Navi said. 

Link reeled back in shock. “My what!?” 

Ruto laughed girlishly. “I haven’t forgotten! But you’re a terrible man to keep me waiting like this for all these years.” 

Link’s tongue was having trouble forming words. Oblivious to his awkward confusion, she floated over with a grace other Zoras would envy. 

“But now is not the time, I know,” she carried on in a dramatic tone Link remembered well. “I came here to save my people. Have you seen it, Link? Zora’s Domain – completely frozen!” 

Link swallowed and found his voice. “Yes, I—” 

“Such a tragedy!” she interrupted with another regal sweep of fins. 

Link quickly relayed his visits to the Domain, and rescue of her father, King Zora, before making his way here to the lakebed temple. When he’d finished, Ruto threw her arms around him, trapping his arms at his sides. 

“Oh, Link! I can’t thank you enough for saving my father. And for coming here to help me save all my people.” She clung to him in a tight embrace. Link gently patted her shoulder. 

She released him, brushing aside a tear and returning to business. “There are three reservoirs within this temple to control the water level. My people have long used places like this to keep the waters of Hyrule’s rivers and lakes clean and flowing, even in times of disaster. If we can reach all three reservoirs and raise the water level, we can find the monster that has been leeching our water supply and destroy it.” 

“Have you been here all this time fighting the monster?” he asked incredulously. 

A delicate blush crept across her face and she looked away from his gaze. “I have not been here long, but as the Sage of Water, I can sense the monster’s presence, draining the lake. Unfortunately, I…” she gestured to Link. “I am not strong enough to defeat it alone, nor can I turn the valves to release the water in the reservoirs.” 

Ruto laid her head on Link’s shoulder and began stroking his arm through his sleeve. “Which is why I am ever so grateful that you’re here now to help me.” 

Navi emitted a noise suspiciously like a snort. Link shot her a glare, but she pretended not to see it. 

“I’ll do what I can,” he promised Ruto. 

She embraced him gleefully. “Thank you! Now, follow me! There is no time to waste.” 

“Then why are you wasting time fawning?” Navi muttered. 

“Navi!” Link hissed. 

At least Ruto couldn’t understand Navi; she relied on Link to translate. Otherwise, she ignored the fairy. The Zora princess guided them through the lower level, where Link dispatched the occasional tektites and spikes and that crossed them, drawn from the dark energy cloaking the temple. 

When they reached the basement room with the first reservoir, Ruto stood aside and Link grasped the lever in both hands. It took some effort, but the piece of metal eventually turned with a painful, metallic scrape. The great stone reservoir seemed to shudder, then a door at the base creaked open and water gushed free. 

Link put on his mask as the basement quickly filled, swimming behind Ruto back to the main cavern. They floated on the surface as the water level rose until Link could reach the platform of the centre structure. 

“The second reservoir is inside here,” Ruto explained, peeking around the corner and finding the door. “Oh, Nayru’s ears, it won’t open!” The Zora princess heaved on the handle, but the door refused to budge. 

Link tried, but it was wedged tight. “Is there another way inside?” he asked. 

Ruto scrunched up her face in frustration and concentration. “Back in the basement there might be a way. But you’ll have to—” 

The water behind her stirred, shooting upwards into a long arm that swept her clean off the ledge. 

“Ruto!” 

Link dove in after her, but the malevolent water had a mind of its own. The water formed itself into a vortex, shoving him back and pulling Ruto under. With its prey snatched, it whisked her away underwater and into a tunnel in the cavern’s outer wall. 

Link swam after it. Around him the cavern shook violently, and the walls of the underwater tunnel collapsed, raining boulders down on him. He spun out of the way, avoiding being crushed, before kicking for the surface. 

“What was that!?” Navi screeched. “That was not normal water!” 

“No idea,” Link panted, peeling off the face mask. “I’ll have to find another way in. Looks like we’re on our own.” 

Navi shuddered. “Alright. Just don’t stay underwater too long. I hate being stuck inside that bottle…” 

The bottom of the temple was a maze of tunnels and passageways. Hitting dead ends and being forced to double back made his progress slow, and his urgency pricked at the back of his mind. 

The temple was a curious mix of the Zora’s water-based technology and their deep spirituality, serving both a practical purpose and as a place to honor the spirits of water. 

When Link at last found a tunnel, which led inside the central column, he flipped over and floated on his back to rest. Above, the reservoir loomed. With the crank turned, the room flooded again. He managed to unwedge the troublesome door and swam across the gap to the second floor. 

“It’s another maze, isn’t it?” Link groaned. His sense of direction was stellar, but underneath all this earth and water, it was impossible to tell where he was headed. 

Navi huffed. “At least I can be free of the bottle.” 

A half dozen cramped corridors later, Link nearly tumbled headfirst down a waterfall as the path abruptly ended. 

In an enormous room, two giant waterfalls splashed into a deep basin fifty feet below. Standing above them, Link realized the water was flowing beneath his feet from an unseen channel. Directly across the gap, another passageway stared him down. 

“Well, how do I get over there?” Link sighed, exasperated. 

“Link, look!” 

Navi bobbed excitedly at a row of sconces on the walls. Underneath was a small padded target. 

“You can use the hookshot!” she explained. “It will hold, trust me.” 

Not wanting to doubt his fairy companion but not altogether certain it would hold him, Link used the hookshot to sail over the wall. He wrapped his free arm around the sconce and looked across the room to the next in line. 

There was no going back now. He hoped the hookshot’s chain was long enough to zig zag over the huge room. 

With a brief prayer, he pressed the release, and the spearhead of the hookshot found its target. A few more crossings and he was standing on the other side, the falls thundering behind him. 

Link rubbed his aching shoulder. “Let’s hope there’s another way back,” he muttered. 

Further down the corridor, he found a rectangular room, ending in a single door on a raised platform. To the right and left were imposing statues of dragon heads, their mouths open and expressions fierce. 

Before them were stone bowls, meant to catch a flood of water from the spout inside their mouths. All were dry and had been for some time. The recesses of the room were dark, but the walkway to the door was lit by more glowing orbs. 

While Navi mused about Zora spiritual beliefs and rituals the room had once been used for, Link studied the door. The frame was impressive, three times as big as the door and decorated exquisitely with Zora designs. The door itself was blank, painted so deep blue it would have been invisible if not for its frame. 

It bore no handle, but swung open soundlessly at the touch of his fingertips, admitting entrance to the strangest room yet. 

Shallow water lapped at his boots, pushing ripples across the floor and disappearing into the haze. 

On the far side an identical door, shut, was only just visible. 

He took another step, disturbing the glass-like surface of water and distorting the reflection of the room. Between him and the exit was a sandy island, big enough for a single dead tree, black with decay. 

Link approached it warily, unsure what kind of eerie place he had stumbled into. On his shoulder, Navi shivered. 

The whole room was still, cool and open. There was no ceiling, no walls, yet he had a sense of being caged in, trapped. 

Wisps of fog ebbed and flowed around him, drawing back when he walked and then flooding to cover his tracks behind him. In the distance on either side of the tree, Link could make out what looked like stone ruins, as fragile as dust and the colour of sand. Even when he ventured for a closer look, the fog obscured them; they stayed out of reach. 

Giving up exploration, Link hurried to the opposite door. A cold trickle of apprehension ran down his nape. His fingertips felt numb. 

Link reached for the door. With a sound like a blade being drawn from its sheath, iron bars dropped from the frame, barring his escape. 

Ice pounded through his veins now. Navi's wings blazed with blue light. 

The energy in the room had shifted, gathered by the mist and coalescing at the base of the tree. With laser precision, it targeted him, compelling him to turn. 

A shadow waited before the dead tree, watching him. 

“It's...me,” Link said, shocked. 

The figure took a step forward; the water beneath its feet dead calm. It cast no reflection. 

He reached for his sword and shield. His shadow-self did the same. “What is this?” he asked Navi. 

The fairy moved to hover at the other Link's side; its featureless face didn't turn. His eyes, glowing red with sinister magical energy, were fixed on Link. 

They began to circle each other, waiting for the fight to begin. 

“It's you,” Navi repeated. “I don't know how to explain it...he feels just like you, only...not.” 

The other Link sprung, his shadowy Master Sword, crashing onto the Hylian shield. 

“Not helpful!” Link growled, rolling out of the way of a follow-up attack. 

Charging with inhuman and relentless force, his shadow-self barraged Link, keeping his defense on a teetering edge. When he did parry, the creature copied his movements exactly. Not only imitated, but anticipated Link's next move, evading every hit. 

Link raised his shield, and with a well-aimed kick, the shadow sent him sprawling to the floor. Acting quickly, he rolled as the point of the other's false but very sharp sword slammed into the spot his chest had been a moment before. 

Dispassionate, the shadow Link yanked the blade free, ready to fight again. The pair traded blows again and again, but neither was able to gain an advantage. It was all Link could do to keep himself upright. Fed up, he focused his will into his left hand, executing a spin attack with the Master Sword and releasing a wave of energy at his opponent. 

Struck by the spell, the shadow grunted in pain and dropped to his knees. Without warning he slipped beneath the shallow water, swallowed by the mirror's reflection. 

“It's just an illusion!” Navi warned. “He'll be back.” 

Sure enough, Link's opponent materialized again at the base of the tree, moving towards him at high speed. 

He readied another spin attack, but the shadow jumped, bringing his own weapon down in an arc. 

Link raised his left arm. It was wrenched down as the other Link stepped on the Master Sword's blade, pinning it to the floor. 

Defenseless, Link felt the other sword's blade pass through him insubstantial and formless. Yet the pain it delivered was real. 

Link collapsed to his knees with a scream as white-hot agony pierced him. Just as when the creature from the Kakariko Well had attacked him, but twice as devastating. 

Above him, the shadow was twitching, losing and regaining its form. As if at war with itself, whether to kill Link or let him keep fighting. 

When the pain faded, it left an invisible, cold scar over his heart. He rose unsteadily to his feet, every breath pricking like needles. 

He lifted his sword to attack, but it became a half-hearted defense when the shadow crashed into him, drawing strength as Link's waned. 

Managing a second spin attack, he drove the shadow away again, but it returned with vigor. The other Link's sword swung over and over, finding holes in Link's armour, battering away at his shield arm or deflecting blows. 

With a quicksilver twist, the shadow pried under Link's defenses, locking his sword arm at his side and knocking the Master Sword from his fingers. 

The blade whirled across the room, lying useless in the water. 

A punch took Link to his knees, then another kick forced him down. The evil blade stabbed into his shoulder. He screamed himself hoarse with anguish as it pierced like teeth laced with venom, stealing his strength and halting his breath. 

Crouching next to him, the shadow turned Link to his back. Fighting the urge to pass out, Link blinked at the whiteness of the fog. 

The shadow sword kept him bound to the floor, unable to move. As the shadow watched him without expression, Link struggled, though it sent searing whips of pain across his body. 

Link clenched his left fist. A twitch of his fingers eased the paralysis. 

Underneath him, the water at last started to move, creeping up and over him. Dazed and weak, Link mentally resisted the sensation of being dragged down—into whatever lay on the other side—but it didn't stop. 

Water covered his face, until all he could see was the shadow's indistinct form. His mind began to float away, peaceful and unconcerned. His body relaxed, content to lie in this strange ether. 

Here, nothing mattered. Nothing needed doing. No one waited on his help or his heroics. He could simply sleep. 

Sleep sounded nice. 

Link closed his eyes. 

His left hand twitched. 

**~oOo~**

Dark’s hands were sticky with blood, coating them and running in thin veins down his arms. 

He knelt on the kitchen floor of their farmhouse in a circle of red. His father watched him with unfocused eyes. 

“Dad?” His voice trembled like a scared child’s. 

Naron lifted his head and rested it against the wall. He breathed in shallow pants, hands fisted over his abdomen. 

“You can’t stay here, Kai,” his father told him. “You need to leave.” 

“I won’t leave you.” 

Dark gripped his father’s hands, ignoring the blood. The coppery scent stung him. 

Naron’s image began to come apart, his features fragmenting into flakes of ash and scattering to dust. 

His eyes melted into pools of black ink, overfilling the now empty sockets. Dark recoiled instinctively, only to hear a new voice calling his name. 

Behind him, his mother rushed towards him, one scarlet streaked hand pressed against a gaping wound in her chest. Blood bubbled from the wound, staining her dress, the grass. Arms outstretched, she tried to reach him, crying out for him, but no matter how he pushed himself faster, the distance between them wouldn’t close. 

Dark’s heart ached in his chest as he pushed with every ounce of desperation to feel her fingers catch in his. 

“Mom! I can’t reach you!” 

“Kai! Where are you!?” she sobbed. 

Her tattered dress tore away in shreds as if by a gale wind, taking pieces of her with it until nothing remained but her clutching hands and panicked eyes. 

She reappeared, closer this time, but she was deaf to his calls. A bundle was in her arms, and she cradled it close, crying quietly. His infant brother lay inside, his tiny face cold and ashen. 

Dark screamed as the visions collapsed and he was alone on the grassy plain, facing the Shadow once again. 

It lunged at him, a shapeless mass, so black it made the night around seem bright. Slicing through him, the Shadow twisted, coiling around Dark. 

He dropped to his knees, though there was no ground anymore. He clawed back at the Shadow surrounding him, but his hands passed right through. There was no strength left in his body to move, to draw breath, to feel anything but the agony. 

His parents’ voices rang in his head, calling for him endlessly. Low, mocking laughter followed after it. 

Then everything halted. Dark raised his head, managed to stand on legs as shaky as a newborn foal’s. 

He cursed. He was back in the same white room, the sorcerer Alatar’s latest prison. 

Dark laid back down on the deep blue tiles, letting the impenetrable white fog wash over him. The visions would start again soon, and he was tired. So tired. 

There was no use exploring, he knew. The room went on and on forever. It was only a mirror, a non-existent prison in a world that wasn’t real. 

When Dark and his Twili companion had arrived at the so-called blight—a magical barrier covering the centre of the Twilight realm, Alatar had been waiting. He’d reached through the veil and pulled Dark through, back into his trap. 

Somehow, Dark had escaped from him during the sorcerer’s attempts to place him under a curse of dark magic and wound up in the Twilight. But now, Alatar had succeeded, and he was caught in a twisted, eerie replica of the Light World. 

When Alatar wasn’t forcing him to relive horrifying alternates of his worst memories and experiences, Dark wandered in this empty room, losing count of the days that passed. 

On his back with his eyes closed, Dark bolted up when the energy of the room shifted. A chorus of echoing voices filled his ears. The white fog receded, forming into a giant swirling root at the centre of the room, connecting floor to ceiling. 

The voices grew louder, sounding like the wailing cries of the damned. He gritted his teeth and held his head in his hands, moving towards the column of white. 

At his approach, it dissipated, leaving a shallow pool of water behind. The voices stopped. 

Link lay in the water, still and pale as death. 

This wasn’t a vision of Alatar’s to torment him. This was real. 

“Link!” Dark seized his shoulders, trying to shake him awake. “Wake up! Link!” 

His brother didn’t open his eyes, but he took in a shallow breath. Dark nearly cried in relief. He was alive. 

“Come on, Link,” he urged. “Get up. Whatever this is, you can fight it. You’re supposed to be a bloody hero, aren’t you!?” 

Link muttered something indiscernible, so Dark leaned close. “Your sword…” he repeated, scanning the room. 

There. The Master Sword struck through the stone at an angle, its blade glowing with faint blue energy. 

Dark raced to it, grabbing hold of the cool hilt. Pain exploded up his arm and over his heart. Dark released the blade, gasping in shock. The pain immediately vanished. 

He glanced back at Link where he lay. The column of fog had returned, draining away his life. The unearthly voices cried out, more eager and frantic than before. 

Dark seized the sword and pulled it free. Rejecting him, it pushed him to the floor, but he kept holding on. He would place the sword in Link’s hand if he had to crawl there. 

Dragging the impossibly heavy sword behind him, Dark gasped at each new throb of pain. It was the mark that the Master Sword attacked, where Alatar had sliced Dark with his knife. Sensing the dark magic in him, the sword would try to rid him of his curse, even if it destroyed him. 

Collapsing next to Link’s body, Dark panted for breath. The pain was worsening. The voices were shrieking. The fog was moving faster. 

Link’s breaths were slowing. He was dying. 

The Master Sword’s hilt was inches from Link’s slack fingers. Dark pushed against it, feeling as if he tried to move an entire mountain and not just a piece of metal. 

“You won’t make it,” Alatar hissed in Dark’s ear, his disembodied voice amplified. “You’re too late. He’s already lost.” 

“Go…away.” 

“You won’t save him!” 

Dark ignored him. A few more centimetres. The hilt brushed against Link’s fingers and his eyes flew open, no longer blue but brilliant, glowing gold. 

Alatar shrieked. “NO!” 

Link stood up, dispelling the fog with one swing of the Master Sword. The voices cut off with a chorus of screams. 

Dark fell back against the ground. “Sweet Din,” he exhaled. 

Flowing from the mark over his heart, the Shadow formed a barrier over Dark, coiling and writhing as Link approached. The Shadow lunged, but Link was quicker, cutting straight through it with one powerful slash. 

The Shadow broke into a thousand black mirror shards, letting loose an earth-shaking howl of rage before it vanished. 

Dark heaved in one more breath of air, then lost consciousness.


	42. Sunrise

Fire surged up Link’s left arm, obliterating the cold and numbness and returning his strength in a rush of power and adrenaline. 

Vaulting out of the water, he stood in a blink, the Master Sword clenched in his fist with practiced ease. The shadow recoiled with an echoing shriek, then raised its shield. 

Without thinking, Link attacked, the sword glowing brilliantly blue. Every swing was seamless, relentless, unforgiving. The fire continued to blaze, fueling his body and keeping his senses sharper than natural while the shadow was sliced into wisps of smoke. 

The shadow’s shield broke under the force of Link’s offense, and it switched to an aggressive stance. Link parried each swing with laughable ease, his strength now much greater than his opponent’s. 

It stumbled backwards; its false body torn apart by the Master Sword’s power. Collapsing into the water, it dissipated like fog in sunlight and disappeared. 

The incredible surge of energy left Link, and he dropped to one knee with a gasp. His wounds pained him again, and his physical exhaustion overwhelmed him. 

“You did it, Link!” 

He didn’t have time to appreciate Navi’s cheers. Where the shadow had been vanquished, next to the lone tree, lay a body. 

Sword and shield in his slack fingers, Link looked closer, then rushed to Dark’s side and crashed into him. 

“Dark!” Link shook his friend by the shoulder’s, but he remained limp and unresponsive. 

“He’s alive,” Navi was quick to assure him. “Just knocked out.” 

Link reached for his belt and rummaged for a small vial of red potion. He tipped its contents against Dark’s lips for a second before swallowing the rest himself. 

“Why is he here?” Link wondered aloud. “I thought he’d been captured?” 

“Maybe we can ask him,” Navi replied as Dark’s form shuddered and he coughed, his eyes opening. 

Propping the other man up, Link stashed the empty bottle and sheathed his sword with his free hand. Dark breathed heavily, focusing on his surroundings after a tense moment. 

“Link?” he mumbled. “What? --” 

The blond set the Hylian shield on the floor and tucked his sleeping roll on top, letting Dark rest against it. 

“We can talk later,” he said to Dark. “For now, we need some time to recover.” He glanced at the slices on his arm, already closing with the effects of the red potion. It would have to do, as he very little left. 

Dark blew out a breath and closed his eyes. “Link?” 

“Yeah? 

“Thank you.” 

Link smiled, though his friend didn’t see it. His eyes ached to close as well, so he sat back against the surprisingly sturdy tree to rest. The fog in the room was vanishing, as was the cold. The danger was gone. Navi hovered over the two of them, the light of her wings pulsing hypnotically. 

They would be safe to rest a while. 

******** **

“Link, wake up.” 

Link’s head snapped up, and he groaned when his neck protested loudly at the discomfort. Dark knelt in front of him, his gaze locked on Link. 

Link frowned. He seemed perfectly healthy again, except for one thing: Dark’s irises, once a deep sapphire, were now muted red. 

Dark’s brow creased at Link’s sharp breath. “What’s wrong?” 

Placing a hand on Dark’s shoulder, Link urged him to look at his reflection in the water. “It’s your eyes...they’ve changed.” 

For a long moment, Dark stared at himself, not speaking. He closed his eyes. 

“What happened to you? I thought you’d been captured after Kakariko.” 

Dark turned his head back to Link, but kept his gaze averted. “I was. When...” he hesitated. “How long ago was that?” 

Blinking, he answered. “Over a week ago.” 

Dark clenched his teeth. “A sorcerer—one of Ganondorf’s minions—he held me prisoner. He did something to me...Some kind of dark magic.” 

Navi fluttered between them. “I’ve heard that people who’ve been cursed can sometimes display...physical anomalies,” she offered. 

Link winced in sympathy. “It’s not--” 

“It doesn’t matter.” Dark cut him off in a sharp tone. “A little glamour will cover it. If Alatar did curse me, what would have happened to me?” 

Navi shrugged. “Each one is different. Sorry, I’m not well informed.” 

Dark sighed and stood up, sifting his hands through his hair absently. “I don’t remember much,” he told them. “Sienna was taken to Hyrule Castle, I think.” He took a quick sweep of the room they were in. “Where are we? How do we get out of here?” 

Link rose, his palms up in a placating manner. “We’re in the Water Temple, underneath Lake Hylia. What are you thinking?” 

Dark scoffed as if it was obvious. “I need to get to the castle. I need to rescue her.” 

Link didn’t point out his lack of weapons and supplies. “I agree, but neither of us are in any condition to do so.” 

“Us?” Dark raised a brow. “I can do this alone. You get on with your hero quest.” 

Stubbornly, Link said, “Dark, you’ve been held captive, possibly cursed and you were nearly dead when you showed up here. If that...shadow was possessing you or something, it may still be affecting you.” 

Pausing in his impatient strides, Dark looked up. “The shadow...it was possessing me?” 

“Once I defeated it, you showed up. The shadow beast we faced in Kakariko couldn’t hold its shape like this one. It was less...I don’t know, permanent, I guess. I made a guess.” 

Dark growled, “It doesn’t matter. The shadow is gone now, and I can’t let anything happen to her.” 

Link moved into his path, ignoring his glare of warning. “I understand, but you’re no use to Sienna if you die. Ganondorf is probably just keeping her imprisoned, same as you.” 

“He’s right,” Navi chimed in. “She’ll be safe enough for now. We need to wait until Link is strong enough to defeat Ganondorf.” 

Grinding his teeth, Dark turned his back to the two of them. “Fine. Then let’s get you moving.” He swung back to Link. “I assume there’s something you need to do here?” 

Link gave him a brief explanation of Princess Ruto had told him about the temple, the curse on Zora’s Domain and the malevolent water that had kidnapped Ruto. 

After checking that their physical injuries had healed and grabbing all of Link’s gear, he handed the hookshot and fairy’s bow to Dark so he wouldn’t be weaponless. 

Dark strapped both weapons on, eyeing Link. “The strangest things really do happen to you.” 

Link frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“Nothing. Let’s find that last reservoir and destroy whatever is oozing all the evil energy in this place.” 

“You can feel it, too?” Link asked. 

“Is that weird?” 

“Just surprising.” 

The entrance was still blocked, but through the opposite door the pair found a tunnel that led down. After half-crawling through the rough-hewn passage, they arrived at an underground river. 

Since Dark didn’t have Zora armour to help him breathe or swim easily, he kept hold of Link’s belt and let him pull him through the heavy currents. The river gushed out into a small cavern, then there was a sudden drop into a large pool in another room of the temple. 

The pool drained beneath the floor, so Dark and Link followed its source to another basement room, finding the final reservoir waiting for them. 

Once they’d raised the water level to its highest, it was a long trek back to the main chamber due to the maze-like passages. 

When the next door blissfully opened to the cavernous pillar room, Link breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thought we’d be trapped here forever?” Dark joked. 

“A part of me was,” Link laughed. He pointed to a platform on the south side of the room, flanked by two dragon head statues. “We just need to get over there.” 

Dark checked his supply of arrows and the sharpness of the hookshot’s spearhead. “Anything I should know going in?” 

“Watch out for evil, sentient water?” 

Dark shot a pointed look at the water-filled room. “Thanks.” 

Link secured the mask of the Zora armour around his face, then hopped into the water to swim over. Dark secured the fairy bow to his back, flexing his fingers reflexively. The he followed Link, ready to face whatever threat awaited them in the final room. 

**~oOo~ **

For centuries, Hylians had worshipped the three Goddesses for the gifts they had bestowed, their benevolent influence over the world. 

Some still paid tribute to another goddess, the fourth sister: Hylia. Her story had faded from the Hylian histories in recent years, but she remained Hyrule’s patron deity. Just as the Gorons held an affinity for Din, the Zora an appreciation for Nayru and the denizens of the forest regarded Farore in high esteem, the Hylians had once almost exclusively worshipped Hylia. 

Fierce studied her likeness, carved long ago into a statue. She wore a smile on a sweet, motherly face. Her hair hung to her waist and she wore a long dress. 

The ancient statue was one of the few surviving from the Sky Era, and it was one of the oldest. Even now, her features were near indistinguishable under years of wear. Statues like this one had been frequently used for prayer or meditation. 

Fierce visited the ancient statue for another reason. Much like the mysterious Sheikah Stones—the so-called ‘gossip’ stones—the Hylia statues were uniquely linked. 

If one knew the way, he could tap into the connection. 

Since this particular Hylia rested close to the old temple in the forest, Fierce had felt the reverberations of the events happening elsewhere in Hyrule. The attack on Kakariko, after rousing him from sleep-like meditation, had drawn his attention. 

With pained regret, he’d witnessed events from afar as Dark and Sienna were captured. Sienna remained in the dungeons of Hyrule Castle, but Dark’s spirit had vanished. 

At first, Fierce was puzzled as he was unable to sense Dark in Hyrule at all. Then, the truth had struck him. 

Thankfully, Link had pulled him from the sorcerer’s influence. And now, he and Link were headed towards more danger. 

With a gentle push of will, Fierce reached through the goddess statue connection to Lake Hylia. It was a small thing, but he hoped a bit of his strength would see them both through this next challenge. 

In the meantime, he thought, it was past time to reunite with Dark. His brother wasn’t aware of it yet, but the magic Alatar had performed remained in him still. 

If allowed to fester, Fierce feared what consequences it would have on Dark. 

Severing the connection, Fierce brought his destination to mind, clear as a picture. 

Caution was needed now, he warned himself. The events he’d long ago predicted were approaching quickly, but he couldn’t afford to interfere more than he already had. 

If he gave in to the temptation, the consequences for Link, Dark and all of Hyrule might be even more severe. 

**~oOo~**

Blue. 

This entire room, from the gorgeous mosaic patterns on the walls to the smooth, tiled floors, to the deep pool of water that dominated the space, was blue. 

Dark brushed his hair from the corner of his eyes, no longer their usual navy colour. The room was taunting him. 

“This place gives me the chills,” Link commented, shivering with emphasis. 

“Means we’re in the right place,” Dark replied. 

The space was large, rectangular, with a high ceiling. They edged along the outside of the pool, looking for any clues. 

Link knelt to inspect the pool’s water, but Dark grabbed his arm before he made contact as Navi chimed in alarm. 

“I wouldn’t,” he said, eyeing the liquid. “That’s not normal water.” 

As if responding to his statement, a ripple shuddered across the surface. Both men leapt back from the water’s edge. Nothing had touched the water to disturb it. 

Navi’s wings blazed brightly. “Something’s watching us,” she warned. 

Receding from the pool’s edge, the water pulled itself to the centre, forming itself into one massive tendril that reached upwards to the ceiling, swaying lazily. 

Link drew his sword. Dark knocked an arrow. An orb the size of a Deku Scrub’s head bobbed through the inside of the water tentacle, spinning in different directions. 

“It’s an eye,” Dark realized, pulling a face of disgust. 

Said eye swivelled to face them, its grotesque iris huge and menacing. 

Link glanced at the four platforms anchored in the pool. “I can get close enough to reach it from there,” he called out, just before he took a running leap. 

Before his boots touched the platform, the eye jerked, summoning another tentacle of water and slamming it into Link. 

Thrown across the room into the wall, Link yelped and rolled out of the way of another attack as the eyeball swished furiously. 

Dark pulled back the bowstring and let an arrow loose, straight at the eye. To his annoyance, the arrow couldn’t pierce the liquid barrier. Instead, it shot the projectile straight back at him. 

Dark ducked with a muttered curse as the arrow sailed past where his face had been. 

“It’s a morpha!” Navi called to them. “The only way to harm it is to attack the eye!” 

“What is it you think we’re trying to do!?” Dark growled, running to Link’s side. 

Link turned to him. “We need to--” He was cut off as Morpha summoned three more watery tendrils which moved with frightening speed to lash out at them and drive them apart. 

“Keep moving,” Dark said, giving him a light shove. 

They circled in opposite directions, keeping the eye’s focus split up and its efforts divided. The water tentacles were fast but didn’t recover easily after slapping themselves onto nothing but tiled floor. 

Giving up the bow, Dark grabbed Link’s hookshot and took aim. The spearhead shot out, but it missed Morpha’s eye, hitting the wall of water and rebounding off. 

“It bounces!?” he asked incredulously. “Who designed this weapon? This is the worst--” 

Morpha swatted him with a tentacle, sending him sprawling onto his face. 

“You need to hit the eye straight on!” Link yelled from across the room, trying in vain to damage the tendrils with his sword. 

Distracted by a pair of them, a third, larger one whipped out and grabbed Link, lifting him into the air. The Master Sword was torn from his grasp, and with his shield trapped against his body, he couldn’t defend himself. 

“Link!” Dark shouted, jumping to his feet. 

Morpha flung Link like a rag doll, tossing him in the air before throwing him full force at the solid wall. Dark sprinted around the perimeter of the room, making it just in time to collide with his friend. 

Landing in an ungainly pile, Dark groaned at what he was afraid might be broken ribs at the very least. Link clambered up and reached down to help him to his feet. 

“Thanks for the landing,” he said. Dark snorted. “Distract it while I grab the sword. Try the hookshot again, I think it will work!” 

Link took off, leaving Dark to shout and wave his arms until the eye spun to glare at him. It launched wave after wave of attack, the tentacles slapping down with enough force to crack the tiles open. 

Weaving and dodging, Dark watched through the transparent Morpha as Link retrieved his weapon. With Link drawing the monster’s attention, Dark took aim with the hookshot. This time, it pierced the veil and struck the eyeball directly. 

He yanked hard, and despite having no visible vocal chords, the Morpha eye let out an enraged shriek as it was freed from safety. It landed with a wet plop at Dark’s feet and immediately hopped back into its protective water. 

Chasing it, Dark kept well away from the edge and speared it once more, whipping it out of the water where Link was waiting with a powerful slash from the Master Sword. 

The eye’s iris changed colour from acid green to vengeful red, and it moved with dizzying speed underwater as it churned up yet more water arms, its movements creating a small maelstrom in the pool. 

“Shoot it!” Link shouted. 

Dark released the hookshot again, but it couldn’t penetrate the surge of water. Gritting his teeth, he braved a jump out to the nearest platform, giving himself a better vantage point. 

From the corner of his eye he saw a tentacle arm slicing towards him, and Link frantically trying to draw its ire. Focused on the eye, he shot it, grinning with victory when the hookshot grabbed it. 

As the chain retracted, he twisted towards the pool’s edge, flinging the eyeball monster towards Link. 

The blade came down on the squirming eye while the water crashed into Dark, sweeping him into the pool and dragging him to the bottom. 

He fought against the pull, but his movements were sluggish in the viscous water, less fluid. His air was running out. The water felt so heavy, so oppressive. It weighed him down. All he could see was blue. 

The pressure on his lungs abruptly jerked and eased. The weight of the water lifted as it drained away and he was left lying on the bottom of the pool, covered in blue slime; what was left of Morpha. 

“Dark!” Link looked down on him from one of the platforms. “You alright?” 

Dark slicked the slime off his face in disgust. “Next time, you get the hard job,” he grumbled. 

Link grinned back. “Come on, there’s a ladder over here.” 

Once he reached the top, Dark strapped the hookshot to his belt and tried to scrape more of the gloop off. “What now?” he asked Link. 

His friend was turned away, not listening. Blue light burst from the centre of the pool, engulfing them both. 

“More blue,” Dark muttered. “Just what’s needed.” 

The light faded into a single ring, losing its blinding intensity. Link stepped into it without hesitation, vanishing in the next instant. 

Shocked, Dark’s jaw dropped open until Navi cleared her throat impatiently. 

“Come on,” she urged, tugging on his earlobe to get him moving. “We’ll meet up with him soon.” 

“Sure,” Dark replied with a heavy hint of sarcasm. He stepped into the circle of light, feeling the tingle of magic in his fingertips. “What could happen, right?” 

*********

“Link.” 

Ruto’s high, regal voice, full of pride and admiration. She stood before him on the blue pedestal, her delicate fins fanned out behind her. 

“I knew you would succeed,” she continued, her pointed chin held high. “I always knew I had chosen well.” 

“I’m glad to see you’re okay after morpha attacked you,” Link said. “And I suppose the other Zoras will be freed from the curse now.” 

Ruto’s indigo eyes settled on him. A small smile curved her mouth. “Yes, Zora’s Domain and my people will return to normal, thanks to your efforts.” 

Link accepted her praise with a humble nod, but she wasn’t done. She raised her arms and folded her hands over her chest, taking a half step towards him. 

“Link,” she began in her usual, impassioned tones, “I grant to you my eternal love and devotion.” 

Link’s mouth dropped open. “Er, Ruto...” His head spun with everything Dark had ever told him about girls, trying to find the right response. 

At his less than enthusiastic response, Ruto let out a lofty sigh. “Then again, as I am now the Sage of Water, I must remain here and fulfill my duty. Besides,” she eyed him with a glint of mischief. “I believe you are searching for someone else. Princess Zelda?” 

Link tensed at the mention of her name, and he knew his reaction had shown on his face. He flushed, opening his mouth to explain. 

Ruto laughed. “I can read you so easily,” she told him. “You can’t hide how you feel.” She let out another sigh, this time her mouth thinned in disappointment. 

“Ruto...” Link began, but she shook her head, her shell earrings waving. 

“You don’t need to explain.” She paused, glancing away. “And Link?” 

“Yes?” 

“She’s alive. Princess Zelda. I can sense it.” Ruto smiled again. “You’ll see her again.” 

Hope filled Link, but he bit his tongue to keep the grin from his face. Ruto’s gaze swept over him, and then she lifted her arms above her head, the pale fins at her elbows reflecting the bloom of sapphire light. 

When it faded, she cradled the medallion in her palm. She stepped forward and held it out to Link. When he placed his hand over hers, she clasped his hand tight and looked into his eyes. 

“I will be here with you in your fight against Ganondorf,” she promised. “Until then...” She leaned close, tilting her head. Her lips brushed Link’s cheek in a fleeting kiss, and then she stepped back, leaving the medallion with him. 

At the familiar sensation of falling, Link clutched the medallion protectively in his hand. Ruto looked aside as the light surrounded him, but Link thought he saw her lift her hand to her cheeks as everything faded away. 

Opening his eyes, Link saw he was back on the island in the middle of Lake Hylia, facing the red line of the eastern horizon. 

Clear, shining water, stained with the bolder colors of the sunrise, filled the lake. They’d done it. 

Dark waited under the huge tree, gazing out at the water, deep in thought. His head turned as Link approached and they stood together, watching the crimson sun’s climb over the cliffside. 

“Another of Ganondorf’s plans foiled,” Dark mused. “Only two more to go, right?” 

Link nodded. Navi landed on his shoulder, leaning back to watch the beautiful view. 

“Where to next?” 

Link glanced at his friend. “Back to Kakariko,” he said. “I promised Sheik I’d return to help Impa as soon as I could.” 

“That’s a long way.” 

“I brought Epona with me.” 

Dark blew out a breath that ruffled the hair on his forehead. “I suppose I’d only slow you down.” 

Link raised an eyebrow at him. “I wouldn’t have succeeded here if it weren’t for you.” He paused, unsure. “Can I count on you in the future?” 

Dark’s eyes flicked to Link, then back to the lake. After a long moment he faced Link, offering his hand. “I’d like that.” 

Link grasped his forearm, grinning broadly. Dark’s heart ached at seeing the too-familiar smile. Words bubbled up in his throat that he wasn’t ready for, urging him to tell Link about their forgotten connection. 

“Link, I--” He swallowed. “I want to tell you something.” 

“What is it?” 

Dark stared at Link’s face, young and hopeful, and yet so unaware. So unprepared for the whole truth. He couldn’t burden him anymore that he already was. Couldn’t force a brotherly bond on him on top of everything else. It wouldn’t be fair. 

“I’m, ah,” Dark cursed himself inwardly. “I wanted to say thank you,” he settled on. “You saved my life down there. And I would be very glad if you let me come with you and try to repay that debt.” 

Link’s answering smile was genuine, humble, making Dark’s insides twist. “I’m happy for the help, honestly,” he said. “It’s nice to have someone fighting by your side.” 

He released Dark’s arm, then reached to adjust the shield on his back. “We should get going,” Link said. “We can rest for a bit at the old professor’s house—he lives just over there, he’s been watching Epona for me—and then we can set off for Kakariko.” 

“Fine by me,” Dark replied, distracted with his own thoughts. 

Blissfully unaware of Dark’s predicament, Link sauntered off, taking the wooden bridge back to the lake’s edge. Dark trailed behind, mentally berating himself. 

Coward, he accused himself. You’ll have to tell him the truth eventually. The truth about everything... 

For Dark knew he was keeping more than the secret of their blood relation from Link. He hadn’t been honest about Alatar’s curse. He’d told Link the shadow was gone. But he sensed it still, lurking in his heart, waiting for a moment of weakness from him. 

His fingers traced the raised scar tissue under his shirt, left by Alatar’s knife. Whatever the curse was, it had only loosened its hold. 

Dark watched Link’s retreating back, praying to whatever gods were still listening that his brother would be safe. He prayed that Link’s trust in him wasn’t misplaced. He prayed that Sienna, wherever she was now, was still safe. 

Above all, he hoped whatever had been done to him could be undone.


	43. The House of the Dead

He’d already forgotten what warmth felt like. His memories of something other than the acrid stench of death and the sound of bone-chilling moans had vanished from his mind. Before them the great door leered down at them—the face carved there was grotesque, its eye sockets wide and empty and its smile broad and mocking, like a theatre performer’s mask. 

Beside him, Impa’s feet were planted, her back straight, her jaw set. She hadn’t yet said anything, and it made him nervous. That, and the eerie calls and cackles that somehow slithered in from beyond the door. 

Link shivered involuntarily, trying to dismiss both the physical cold of the underground chamber and the emotional unease at being in such a horrifying place. The marble statue that was Impa finally stirred. Noticing his discomfort, she turned sharply and beckoned him to follow her to the cave’s centre. The sparse forest of torches, long cold, surrounded them in a dizzying series of spirals. 

She stepped onto the raised hexagonal platform in the centre, turning in a full circle. Link positioned himself just outside her wingspan, giving her space. He tried to ignore the dark stains that spattered the floor here and there, refusing to let his mind overanalyze them. 

“On my mark,” she said, preparing him. “Anything could happen.” 

She didn’t wait for his answer. The zing of his sword sliding from its sheath announced he was ready. Navi hovered a few feet away, illuminating the corners that were too dark to see into. 

Impa widened her stance on the platform, forming a tight fist with her right hand, crouching and pounding said fist against the platform in one fluid motion. Light bloomed from beneath her fist, arcing upwards to surround her in a dome of red-orange flames. Straightening, she flung her arms outward, sending the fiery magic in every direction. It passed over Link and targeted the unlit torches. 

As she stepped down, a chorus of crackling flames greeted their ears. With each one alight, she turned expectantly towards the great door. 

Before their eyes, the menacing mask dissolved, revealing the door’s true adornment. A symbol Link recognized appeared: an eye with a teardrop clinging to it, ready to fall, and three small triangles above it. He’d seen it before, decorating Sheik’s clothing. 

“The symbol of the Sheikah,” Impa explained, satisfied. “Now we may see what is hidden.” 

To his shock, she walked with a confident step towards the symbol—and passed straight through stone. 

“Impa!” he called, panicked over her vanishing act. 

“Come through,” she commanded, her voice clear. “It is an illusion.” 

With some trepidation, he followed her example, unable to keep from wincing as he crossed the threshold. Finding himself unharmed on the other side, he looked up to see a nonplussed Impa, turning to lead him down the earthen corridor. 

“Welcome to the Shadow Temple,” she said to him. 

He thought he detected mockery in her tone but didn’t comment. She might detect his dirty look through the eyes concealed in the back of her skull. 

“It gives me the creeps,” Navi said, her voice trembling from cold. 

“What is this place, exactly?” Link asked, watching his steps carefully. Impa needed no help seeing in the darkness. 

“It is better if you do not know,” came her chilling reply. 

Before long they arrived at another wall, bearing the same grinning ghost’s face. Link scowled at it, and Impa ignored it as if it weren’t even there. Link stepped through the illusion after her with more confidence this time that a deadly trap or fatal fall didn’t wait on the other side. 

The chamber beyond branched off into many passageways on either side and was empty save for a ring of torches carved to resemble the heads of birds of prey. On the far side, a gargoyle head statue watched them, its jaws open, its tongue rolling out. 

Impa halted in her steps next to the torches and withdrew an object wrapped in cloth from a pouch on her hip. Unwrapping it, she revealed it to be an object like a handheld mirror, although the glass was transparent and violet-red in colour. 

Link took it when she offered, and he twirled it in his hands, watching the image of the Sheikah eye in the glass vanish and reappear as he did so. 

“This is the Eye of Truth,” she told him, her voice low. “It is a Sheikah heirloom of mine, and extremely valuable. It simply shows things as they are, reveals truths that are hidden and dispels illusions.” The corners of her mouth tightened. “You will need it in order to explore safely.” 

Link frowned again, observing the reddish flash of the mirror. “This place feels full of magic,” he said. “Are there other traps like the door?” 

Impa’s crimson eyes didn’t blink. “This temple is not like the others, Link,” she said softly. “Its original purpose was a prison for Hyrule’s worst offenders and for those who used dark magic. It was also the site of the massacre of my people by Ganondorf.” 

Link’s eyes widened in shock, but Impa’s remained hard as steel as she continued, “These caverns are haunted by the many souls who were tortured and killed here. It is a tomb.” 

She placed a hand over Link’s where it gripped the handle of the lens. “Do not underestimate the power of the dead.” 

Link nodded, clutching the Eye in his right hand and reaching for the comforting hilt of the Master Sword with his left. At her instruction he held the lens high, holding it over every passageway. All but two were false, meant to lead someone astray. 

Impa pointed to the branch to their left. “We’ll start here,” she ordered. 

Without waiting, she walked off. Link drew in a steadying breath. He gripped tightly the Eye of Truth and followed the Sage into the shadows. 

**~oOo~**

_Hyrule Castle_

The throne room of Hyrule Castle had been seldom used by its tyrant occupant. For over seven years, left largely ignored, its furnishings stripped, it had remained empty. 

Sheik no longer cast his gaze to the high stone walls, the smooth floor, remembering its glory days when Hylian banners hung and carpets kept off the chill, when the windows beckoned in sunlight bright enough to fill the entire hall. 

Sheik’s eyes stayed with the man staring resolutely out the northern most window. Ganondorf’s impressive height blocked most of the glass. His hair grew long and unkempt, and he hadn’t bothered to shave. Yet he stood straighter, stronger than ever. 

Dark magic coursed through the tyrant king’s blood, lending him unnatural strength. Sheik felt it like a miasma that permeated the throne room, choking him. 

“For all these years you have served me.” Ganondorf spoke low, but his voice carried to Sheik’s ears anyway. “Yet you and all my followers have failed to bring me one child,” he sneered, “from the forest. Worst of all, you’ve failed in your promise to deliver the Princess Zelda to me.” 

Sheik showed no reaction as Ganondorf turned to pierce him with his glare. 

“Kakariko still stands,” Ganondorf continued with a growl. “And my two greatest enemies roam free. Imara will receive punishment for her failure, but I haven’t yet decided what to do with you.” 

Sheik said, “My lord, I have information that Princess Zelda may be hiding in the desert, with your former commander Nabooru.” 

Ganondorf grunted and waved a dismissive hand. “Then your information is wrong. The traitor Nabooru is no longer a threat.” 

Eyes widening a fraction, Sheik asked, “My lord?” 

“She has been dealt with. If you continue to disappoint me, Sheik, her fate will be yours.” 

Sheik bowed low. “Allow me one final chance, my lord. I know the whereabouts of the boy.” 

Ganondorf’s gaze raked over him. “You’ve been a useful source of information for me, Sheik.” He exhaled through his nose. “I won’t grant you another chance. Use this one wisely.” 

“You’re very gracious, my lord.” 

Ganondorf snorted. “Get out of my sight.” 

By the time the king had turned his back, Sheik vanished in a flash of light 

**~oOo~**

_East Lanayru province_

Dark gave Epona’s smooth neck a pat before climbing into the saddle, murmuring a few encouraging words. She was a fine-tempered horse, thank Farore, and strong to boot. In just a few days, they’d made remarkable progress. 

After retrieving the mare at Lake Hylia, Link had warped back to Kakariko to assist Impa, entrusting Dark with Epona’s safe return as bringing her along wasn’t possible. Despite a clear preference for her master, Epona had taken to him. Dark liked to think it was due to horses being fine judges of character, but he assumed it his physical similarity to Link. 

Traveling by day and sleeping in caves or the forest at night, Dark had so far avoided trouble of any kind. Though the red potion Link left him helped, he wasn’t strong enough yet to fight off one wolfos, let alone a pack of them. And there was more than wolfos wandering around at night these days. 

“What do you say we make it to the ranch by nightfall, hm, Epona?” 

The mare snorted and tossed her head. Dark chuckled. 

“Guess not.” 

The day’s ride was thankfully quiet, and the setting sun forced Dark to steer his mount to the shelter of the woods. 

A sharp pain sliced through his chest, like an invisible knife plunged into his heart. Dark gasped. Epona whinnied, rearing on her hind legs. Clutching the scar over his heart, Dark tried to calm Epona. Tendrils of inky blackness seeped from between his fingers, curling around his hand. Striking like a viper, it grazed the back of Epona’s head. 

Panicked, the mare reared, tossing Dark to the ground. Dark landed sharply, rolling out of the way of Epona’s flying hooves. The shadow was ripping free; it felt as if his chest was cracking open. 

Dark screamed in agony as the shadow’s indistinct form finally wrenched itself from his body. Epona kicked out at the non-corporeal threat but it simply swarmed her, driving her mad with terror. 

“Epona,” Dark panted, trying to think of a way to draw the shadow’s ire. “Go! Run!” He grabbed a handful of dirt and tossed it uselessly at the black form. “Go, Epona!” 

The mare bolted, spraying dirt from under her hooves. As she raced away across the plain, the shadow returned to hover over Dark’s prone form. 

“At last,” sneered Alatar’s voice from the shadow’s mass, as clear as if he stood next to Dark. “You won’t escape me again.” 

Dark choked out a laugh. “Want to bet?” 

The shadow dove through his body, tearing him into him so savagely Dark’s brain rattled in his skull from the force of his struggles. He went limp with a groan, resisting the need to curl into a ball and sob. 

“Do not test me, boy,” Alatar growled. “Or the Shadow may kill you too quickly, and we have work yet to do.” 

Dark didn’t care enough to reply. His vision blackened at the edges. Rolling to his belly, he reached half-blind for a weapon. The bow and hookshot Link had lent him were close by, just out of reach of his fingers. 

Displeased, Alatar said, “Perhaps you’ll be more cooperative after this.” 

Dark didn’t have time to brace himself before the shadow struck him again. Flooding his entire body with white-hot lightning, Dark’s teeth locked and he spasmed uncontrollably. 

The shadow finally released him, and his brain mercifully shut down, letting blackness take him. 

Dark woke in the cold grass, his face pressed to the hard ground. His head ached like an anvil had split it open. 

Numb and stiff, he slid his hands underneath himself and lifted onto his hands and knees. The grass felt wet and sticky. Dark looked down. 

His hands. His hands were painted with blood. It covered him from the tips of his fingers to his elbows. Clutching at his tunic, he saw with horror that it, too, was soaked in blood. 

He ripped it over his head, spreading his hands over his skin to find it unmarked save for the ugly mark left by Alatar’s blade. The blood wasn’t his. 

“What?” Dark panted, feeling panic rise in his throat. 

He bolted to his feet to take in his surroundings. The woods—he'd ended up in the forest. With a sick feeling in his stomach, he took in the flecks of red in the dirt, thrown into sharp relief by the light of dusk. 

Nearby, a small pale form, speckled with darker stains, hidden in the undergrowth. Dark knelt and pushed aside a branch. The blood-splattered corpse of a cucco lay in the dirt, its neck snapped. 

Dark fell back on his haunches, shoving a hand over his face and through his hair. Remembering the blood, he pulled it back, shaking. 

“Sweet goddesses,” he whispered. “What did I do?” 

He stayed in the rain-soaked dirt until the cold numbed him inside and out. His memory offered no clues. After the shadow’s latest attack, there was nothing. 

One cucco couldn’t have produced all the blood on his hands and clothes. What else had he done? Who had he harmed? And Epona, had she escaped? 

Dark shuddered as the rain started again, drizzling through the trees and misting his hair and tunic. When his teeth began to chatter, he finally moved, taking unsteady steps until he found a hollow tree to hide in. 

Drenched to the bone, he had no cloak to keep him warm and his weapons were still missing. Dark leaned back against the inside of the tree, huddled close to its meager warmth. Outside, the clouds swallowed the last of the light, and the rain washed the forest clean. 

Dark sat down and watched the water on his skin chase away the crimson, rubbing the rest away as best he could. 

His eyes began to drift closed when he couldn’t keep them open any longer and he slept in the shelter of the tree, unsure if he ever wanted to wake up again. 

**~oOo~**

As Link and Impa descended further underground, the coolness in the air intensified. Goose bumps raised along his arms, his breath coming out in wisps of white as if the Shadow Temple were stealing away his soul, bit by bit. 

The Eye lived up to its name, guiding them safely through trap doors, false walls and revealing hidden booby-traps in the walls, floors and ceilings. Unfortunately, it could not block out the other sights they came across. 

Most rooms were empty and some partially caved in. In many there were cells, cages or posts and stocks with manacles attached, their skeletal occupants still dangling. Link sidestepped a dark stain on the floor, barely glancing. 

Impa hadn’t lied about this being a place of torture and death. A place where the worst of the worst were punished, interrogated... 

Impa stopped so sharply in the next room Link bumped into her back. A whoosh of air tickled Link’s nose and blew out their lanterns. 

Rigid with tension, Impa warned, “Do. Not. Move.” 

Link froze, allowing his eyes to take in the large, stone-reinforced chamber. It was completely empty. Another unseen wind hit his face. Slowly, Link took a step back, raising the Eye to look through it. 

His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach with a sick lurch. The wasn’t empty. A massive statue of a cloaked man, invisible, dominated the room. In the statue’s hands a scythe was held, whirling counter-clockwise and awaiting anyone foolish enough to enter and be beheaded. 

Impa summoned fire to her palm, relighting their lanterns so they could see again. “Carefully,” she muttered, slinking to the floor on her belly. Link followed her example. 

Inch by inch, they crawled across the floor, using the Eye of Truth as a guide. Some of the stones laid in the floor were revealed to be illusions—a drop into the void. 

After navigating to the other side of the deathly room, Link released his held breath. The tension in Impa’s shoulders stayed. 

“There is something ahead,” she murmured, glancing at their way out. “I am not certain what it is, but it is very dangerous.” 

Link’s hand closed over the hilt of the sword on his back. “I’m ready.” 

A ghost of a smile flickered on the Sage’s face. “Allow me to carry the Eye of Truth and use it to help you. You won’t be able to fight while using it.” 

Link obligingly passed it to her, and they entered a cramped, cave-like space. Six thin, white pillars thrust upwards from the dirt, ending in irregular flares. Their surface was mottled with red spots, maybe lichen. The air was thick and rotten. 

“It’s here,” Impa announced. Her voice sounded muffled, as if the room had swallowed the sound. “Hiding from us.” 

Navi shivered on top of Link’s head under his hat. “It won’t appear until it catches some prey,” she told him. 

Link and Impa moved closer to the white pillars, Eye and Master Sword clenched in their hands. The one nearest to Link swung towards him with unnatural speed, reaching out to snatch at him. 

Recoiling, Link realized with revulsion that the pillars weren’t pillars at all, but long, pale arms with sickly hands that grabbed at him. Out of their reach, Link watched in horror as they clawed blindly. 

“Let them grab you,” Impa said. 

“What!?” 

“It will make the creature surface. I’ll distract it until you’re free.” 

Reluctantly, Link inched close enough that one of the creepy hands could clamp down on his shoulder. Dirt erupted in a torrent in the centre of the circle of arms, revealing a hunched, ghoulish figure. Shuffling in place, the monster swung impossibly long arms that ended in severed stumps. It had a pear-shaped body, as pale as the arm that held Link, speckled with reddish marks. 

As it turned, it lifted its oblong head, showing pits for eyes and an obscenely wide maw, filled with five-inch long teeth. 

The monster moved slowly towards Link, its head bobbing on an unnaturally long neck and its jaws opening even wider. 

“Impa!” Link shouted, wrenching his shoulder from the hand’s grip. It tore the sleeve of his tunic and strained the muscle, but he scrambled away as fast as he could. 

Impa was already on the move, shooting the horrific creature with a small dart. It lowered its head to the tiny projectile in its flank, ripping it free without emotion. Then it turned soulless eyes on the Sage. 

Before Link could react, it let loose another torrent of earth from its mouth, aimed directly at Impa. She braced her forearms before her, but the attack consumed her completely. When it dissipated, she had vanished. 

Fear threatened to paralyze Link. The dead hands swiped at him so he dodged, rolling closer to the ghoul. Seeing he was no longer caught, it lumbered away, head lowering so its hunched back protruded. 

“Not so fast,” Link growled, slashing the Master Sword across its back. 

It let out an ear-splitting howl, its deformed body crumpling. Moving at a pace that belied its appearance, it charged back towards Link, calling more of its eerie hands from the dirt to latch on to his arms. 

With Link unable to get away, the creature swooped, chomping down on Link’s shoulder. 

He cried out, launching his foot into the thing’s midsection. When its hold loosened and it retreated, Link sliced at its exposed neck, hoping the Master Sword could kill what was already dead. 

The ghoul’s head wailed, even unattached, dropping before its heavy body. The hands shriveled like plants starved of sunlight where they stood, withering into dust. 

Link fell to one knee, checking the injury to his shoulder. Badly bruised, with small lacerations from the thing's teeth. At least it wasn’t his left arm. 

“We should get out of here,” Navi said, her anxiety making her wings flutter like a hummingbird’s. 

He scanned the space but saw no exit. He tried not to panic when he remembered Impa had the Eye. There was no way to see the traps now. 

On the ground, the monster’s body twitched, and Link yelped. The severed head began to sink into the dirt, followed quickly by its body. Calming his thundering heart, he knelt to sift his hand through the earth, loose like quicksand. 

Without warning it seized him and pulled him down, a pebble in a drain. Link was spat out the bottom a few moments later, heaving in a shocked breath. Wherever he was now, he was even deeper underground. 

Coaxing more magical fire into his lantern, Link straightened to take stock of his new surroundings. His store of magic was getting low, but he couldn’t chance moving around in the darkness. 

He’d landed in a sewer corridor, luckily on the platform that ran along one side and not in the less than friendly looking water. In fact, it didn’t appear to be water at all but fog, flowing downstream as if drawn to some unknown source. The tunnel stretched several metres above his head and across, its slimy stone walls kept lit by torches of green fire, giving the whole place an eerie look. 

A shadow shifted to his right, and Link was startled to see an enormous grey ship gliding along the river. Silent as a wraith, it halted in front of him, waiting patiently. Gritting his teeth together and stilling the trembling of his lantern-bearing hand, Link boarded the wooden boat. 

After a heavy pause, the ship resumed its journey, lifting and swooping as if it traveled on waves and not air. 

“Let’s hope it takes us to where Impa is and not...somewhere else,” Link muttered. 

As he traveled down the river, the torches became few and far between, sometimes lighting the way and revealing passages that branched off, other times leaving him in the blackness. Link heard the low, growling moans echo in the tunnel and those beyond. His head jerked to the left, and his skin prickled when he spotted the gaunt bodies of dozens of ReDeads, perfectly still, watching him from the river’s edge. 

They had no eyes to see, but they sensed him somehow. The presence of a living, breathing soul—what they longed for. 

Link shivered harshly, wrapping his arms around himself for warmth though it agitated his wound. The ReDeads were nothing more than reanimated corpses, aching for they no longer had. Nonetheless, the sight and sound of them chilled him with stark terror. 

Just as suddenly, the ghost ship lurched to a silent stop. Taking that as his cue, Link climbed down and onto a stone ledge. Confused, Link turned back, but the ship had disappeared. 

Steeling himself one more time, Link walked ahead until the light of his lantern peeled back the black surrounding an ancient stone well. Link paused, examining it. Identical to the one in Kakariko village, without doubt. 

The back of his left hand itched. Trying not to think about his decision too much, Link began to climb down. 

The ladder ended before he reached the bottom. Cynically thinking he would fall to his death, Link let himself drop. He landed, and immediately bounced back up, flailing to get his balance. 

Something big and weighty struck the ground near Link, bouncing him in the air again. In disbelief, Link raised his lantern high, then brushed his fingers over the floor. It wasn’t dirt, nor stone, but hide. 

A drum. 

Torches flared to life all around him, allowing him to see the colossal drum he’d landed on. Outside the lights’ reach, something moved. 

Link secured the lantern to his belt, arming himself with the Master Sword and Hylian shield. 

A dark, leathery body uncurled from above, hovering over him. It had a small head compared to its large body, but a smooth, featureless face. Its arms extended from its sides, missing hands. 

“Is every creature in this awful place handless?” Link asked himself, distracting himself from the fear. 

A steady drumbeat sounded, jostling Link. Shocked, he stared at the shadow creature as it played with unseen hands. The skin of its head slicked back, showing it to be not a head but a single, crimson eye that stared intently where its phantom hands struck the surface of the drum. 

Unseen hands...Link watched the drum’s surface—where twin shadows hovered above it, enlarging and shrinking as the beast’s invisible hands moved. Link grinned. 

“It’s a shadow beast named Bongo Bongo,” Navi reported, floating next to Link’s ear. “If you can paralyze its hands, you can get close enough to strike its eye before it hits you back.” 

“Sounds easy enough.” Link retrieved the fairy’s bow and notched an arrow. 

Without the Eye of Truth to see where Bongo Bongo’s hands were, he would have to guess. He let the arrow fly. With a cry of pain, Bongo Bongo reared back, its left hand becoming visible and, for now, stunned by Link’s arrow. 

Continuing the beat one-handed, Bongo Bongo remained focused. Link aimed again but missed as the shadow beast dodged to the side, agitated. The second shot was true, and Link charged forward as the great red eye zeroed in on him. 

Link slashed at Bongo Bongo’s eye, earning a shriek of agony and fury. But the phantom hands had revived and sent Link sprawling backwards. Landing hard on his back, the breath seized in Link’s lungs. Another blow nearly crushed him, but he managed to backpedal in time. 

Wheezing, Link raised the bow once more, but Bongo Bongo shifted incessantly, enraged by the attacks. It moved too swiftly for Link to land a hit, but its glowing red eye continued to be drawn to the drum’s smooth surface. 

Seeing this, Link switched tactics and prayed it would work. Kneeling, he tapped the nock a few times, testing the sound, then began a slow, sonorous beat. 

Captivated, Bongo Bongo’s hands resumed their pounding, matching the beat Link set. The red eye blinked. 

Grabbing two arrows with his free hand, Link released them with quicksilver speed, catching both hands within moments of each other. 

Stunned, Bongo Bongo’s eye swivelled wildly in its socket. Link raced forward, sword lifted high. He drove his weapon into the eye’s centre, straight to the hilt. A screech sounded in his ears. The shadow beast convulsed and went limp, its huge body crumbling into ash. 

Yanking the sword free, Link stumbled and let himself collapse with a sigh. 

Right on time, ethereal blue light shone through his closed eyelids. Link took another deep breath. He was more than happy to leave this place. 

When he arrived back in the Chamber of Sages, the Sage of Shadow awaited him, a smile curving her thin mouth. 

“Well done, Link,” she praised him. “I am sorry I could not be of more help.” 

Link returned her smile. “I’m glad you’re all right. What happened to you, anyway?” 

Impa shrugged. “I was held in another prison within the Temple. When you defeated the shadow beast, I was freed.” She inclined her head, fist held over her heart. “You have my thanks.” 

Link bowed his head. When he met her eyes again, she watched him expectantly. Trying to keep the guilt from his face, he opened then closed his mouth. 

A smirk played at the corners of her mouth. “I know you have questions,” she said, rightly guessing his thoughts. “Ask them.” 

Link lifted his chin. “What happened seven years ago? At Hyrule Castle?” 

The Sage’s eyes clouded with memory. “When the ambush came, Zelda tried to reach her father, to warn him of the threat Ganondorf posed. But he feared for her safety and tasked me with taking her out of his reach.” 

“Ganondorf mistakenly believed that Zelda held the keys to the Sacred Realm. The three Spiritual Stones of Hyrule’s people and the treasure passed down through generation of the Royal Family—the Ocarina you bear.” 

Impa paused, her nostrils flaring. Her arms crossed over her chest, her left fist tapping idly against her forearm in habit. 

“Hyrule Castle was forced to surrender, and Ganondorf killed the King of Hyrule. He tried to corner Zelda and I as we made our escape, and he told the poor girl of her father’s fate.” 

Impa’s eyes flickered closed briefly, her forehead furrowed. “We escaped, but Ganondorf knew victory was close at hand, and gave chase. I was able to ensure Zelda’s safety, and fulfill my duty as her guardian.” 

Link might have imagined it, but he heard the notes of emotion in her voice. She never called Zelda by her royal title in front of him. He felt certain that Impa viewed her charge as more than just mere duty to the Royal Family. 

“And after?” Link pressed, voice hoarse. “What happened to her?” 

Impa’s expression didn’t change, but he sensed her hesitating. “We spent several years in hiding,” she explained at last. “Zelda was anxious to do more to help her people. I, of course, refused. She was too young, and it was far too dangerous.” 

Another smile flashed and was gone. “But she is a stubborn girl. Eventually, we went our separate ways.” At his earnest look, she added, “I am sorry, Link, but I do not know where she is now. But trust me that she is alive, and she is safe.” 

Appeased, but disappointed, Link nodded. 

“You have become a fine hero, Link. I can see how the prophecies of my ancestors will soon come to pass.” Impa uncrossed her arms, lifting them above her head. “Take this with you, and when you see her again, protect Zelda on my behalf, won’t you?” 

Link’s outstretched fingers caught the Medallion of Shadow. “I will,” he promised. 

_Always... _


	44. The Dark World

When the blinding light faded, he saw he was back in the graveyard. 

Standing atop the stone pedestal marking the descent into the Shadow Temple, Link looked down from the plateau. Hidden in the cliffside, the vantage point offered him an uninterrupted view of the cemetery, but no one below would be able to spot him immediately. 

He glanced back at the slope, which led to the cave Impa and he had used to access the temple. With a shudder, he turned his back with a fervent wish to never return. The hookshot made the climb down a simple thing, and he took his time meandering through the gravestones, enjoying a burst of unprecedented sunshine. 

The weather had been so unpredictable lately, it was nice to see some summer sun come through the habitual dark clouds. 

Link had nearly reached the exit when the pain in his shoulder flared. Stalling, he realized spots were dancing in his vision, his fingers had gone numb. Breathing became difficult. He stumbled, catching himself on a tree. The pain had snaked down into his chest, along the length of his arm. 

With a gasp of surprise, Link slipped to his knees, trying to take a breath when his lungs were on fire. What was happening? 

Navi’s frantic voice didn’t reach him. Her form bounced in front of his face, but she was blurry, out of focus. Link reached for something solid, but his hands couldn’t feel anything at all. Did he still have hands? 

The ground rushed up to meet him, and he found himself staring at a rock as his sight swam in and out of blackness. He inched his fingers forward, and that small movement caused agony for his shoulder. His eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out. 

**~oOo~**

He smelled smoke. Fire. 

Warmth had crept back into his body, which incidentally felt as if it had been tossed off a cliff and landed on several rocks on the way down. He was dry again at least. 

Wood crackled as it burned. He opened his eyes. 

The night sky, clear for once, watched him through the cover of the forest. Dark lifted himself with a groan of effort. His entire being hurt. 

“Welcome back.” 

Dark spun too fast and slapped a hand to his sore neck. “Damn.” He looked across the fire at the man sitting there, tending it. “Fierce,” he croaked in a voice like death. “What’re you doin’ here?” 

Fierce stood and crossed to his side in that fluid way of his. He knelt at Dark’s side and offered him a canteen. “Water first,” he instructed, waiting patiently for him to take a few sips. 

Dark wiped a hand over his mouth, then flinched, stealing a look. His hands were clean—no more blood. He was also naked beneath a pile of blankets. He looked up at Fierce and arched a brow. 

Fierce’s pale eyes didn’t waver. “I took the liberty of caring for you while you were unconscious.” He gave Dark a sardonic look. “Should I not have?” 

Dark chuckled, then winced when his ribs protested. “Thanks. How long was I asleep?” 

“Most of the day.” Fierce returned to the fireside and turned a makeshift spit. He glanced at him idly. “You should be fine now.” 

“Thank Farore for that,” Dark groaned and laid back, too exhausted to sit up. He paused, then asked, “Did you see it?” 

Fierce’s tone held no censure. “The cucco? Yes.” He was silent for a moment. “There were more,” he finally said. 

Dark squeezed his eyes shut. “Tell me.” 

“Alatar attempted to control you, but you resisted,” Fierce explained a too calm voice. “I wasn’t able to reach you sooner, or I might have been more help. I am sorry.” 

Blowing a sigh, he opened his eyes. “Not your fault.” 

“You didn’t hurt anyone, Dark. Alatar had ordered you to slaughter an entire village.” 

Dark’s heart lurched. He sprang up. 

“But as I said,” Fierce continued, unconcerned. “You refused. Instead, it was a few poor cuccos. But no one else.” 

Pressing the heel of his hands against his eye sockets, Dark asked, “You’re sure?” 

“Yes.” 

Dark sighed, letting his hands drop. “And Alatar?” 

“Gone, for now.” He met Dark’s gaze. “But the curse is still unbroken. Both Shadows are merely dormant for now.” 

_“Both?”_

Fierce frowned. “Yes. You were stronger than he realized. He will be back, Dark,” he warned. 

He stared into the fire, his guts churning. “I should have gone after Sienna,” he grumbled. “If I rescue her and we leave Hyrule, the curse will be less potent. We can—” 

“Dark,” Fierce said. “You are in no condition to help her. Alatar will see you coming, and Ganondorf will kill you.” 

“Then what do you suggest I do?” Dark growled. Had he the strength, he would have stood and paced, or punched something. Anything to let out the frustration. “I can’t leave her there.” 

“If you cross Alatar again, he will use her against you,” Fierce warned. “Do not put a target on her now.” 

“I’m not going to sit here and do nothing!” 

Fierce’s serene composure was grating on his nerves. “I’m not suggesting that,” the god replied. “Rejoin Link and the others. In the meantime, I can use some of my power to keep your curse at bay.” 

Dark’s eyebrows shot up. “You can fix it?” 

The corners of Fierce’s mouth flattened in the slightest show of frustration. “No, but I can attempt to slow it down. Temporarily.” 

“Then do it.” Dark curled his fingers against his palms. “Whatever you can do to get me ready to face Ganondorf and Alatar.” 

Fierce nodded and lifted the spit of the flames. “I’ll do what I can. In the meantime, eat something.” 

Dark pulled himself to the fireside with a bit of effort and hunkered down. “I suppose fighting off Shadow possession always makes you feel as though you wrestled a dragon?” he asked. Fierce actually chuckled. Dark gaped at him. “Seriously?” 

“I know a little about it, unfortunately.” Fierce’s brows drew down again. He was quite emotive today, Dark mused. “Long ago, I faced adversaries similar to Alatar and the creatures he’s able to summon from the Dark World.” 

“The Dark World?” he asked, skeptical. 

Fierce shot him a glance. “It has many names, and that one precedes you. It has no connection to you.” 

“I see. So these Shadow beings...they come from there?” 

“Yes and no. Over the eons, the Dark World has changed many times. At the moment, it is from where Alatar and Ganondorf both draw their power. Thanks to Ganondorf’s influence, it has nearly overlapped completely with the Sacred Realm, the home of the gods.” 

Dark took a bite of the meaty morsel Fierce offered him, grunting in appreciation. “So how do we untie them? I’m guessing the overlap isn’t great for you and the other gods.” 

“No,” Fierce agreed, and for a second a wealth of emotion crossed his face before it became impassive again. “That will be done by the Sages, with the Hero’s help. Once Hyrule—the World of Light—the Sacred Realm and the Dark World are separated once more, Hyrule will return to normal,” he assured Dark. 

“And I can rescue Sienna.” 

“Yes.” 

Dark sank his teeth into the meal, but his thoughts were on Sienna. Trapped in the castle. Alone. He couldn’t wait for Link to be ready for his final battle with Ganondorf. Things were worsening by the minute. And the damned curse… 

He could feel the malevolent energy snaking through his veins, even now, waiting for him to drop his guard, poking at weak spots. Hoping to catch him by surprise again. 

“We’ll pay a visit to the Great Fairy,” Fierce was saying. “She is nearly as old as I am, and more accomplished in the ways of healing.” 

Dark didn’t comment, but sullenly chewed his food. Fierce gazed at him, silent and still as stone. He wondered, not for the first time, whether Fierce could read minds. 

They finished their fireside dinner, agreeing to set out for Kakariko first thing the next morning. The journey would take several days on foot, but Epona hadn’t returned. Dark could only assume she had returned to safety in the mountainside village. 

****** 

The morning of the fourth day, the grey peaked roofs were visible beyond the ridge. Death Mountain stood sentry above it, calm once again. 

Dark hitched the strap of his pack a little higher on his shoulder. “This is where you leave me, isn’t it?” he asked Fierce. 

He stood, arms crossed, the wind blowing his hair into his face. “Yes.” 

Looking towards the peak of Death Mountain, he added, “And the Great Fairy?” 

“In the graveyard, there is a spring,” Fierce replied, his voice nearly lost in the high winds. “Look for the headstone with her mark.” 

Filing the information away, Dark glanced back at his brother. “You have somewhere else to be?” 

“As you said, the gods are in trouble.” 

“The Goddesses, you mean.” 

“Yes. My daughters.” 

Dark’s eyes almost fell out of their sockets. Seeing the expression, another flicker of amusement crossed Fierce’s lips. 

“I haven’t spent all these millennia alone, Dark,” he said. 

“Well, I’m glad to hear it; it was just unexpected,” Dark grumbled. 

Fierce chuckled again. Dark checked to see that the sky was still blue to ascertain reality hadn’t left him. 

“I will return if you need me,” he promised Dark. Then, with his usual abruptness, he vanished in a blink. 

“Maybe the world _hasn’t_ fully turned upside down,” he grouched to himself and resecured the strap of his pack. 

It took another half hour of tromping through Hyrule Field, but he made it to the village gates before the sun went down. As much as another run-in with some Bokoblins appealed to him, he’d rather avoid a scuffle. 

The village gates still lay in pieces, but the armed guards on patrol waved him through once they recognized him. The battle scars from the carnage were still visible in the pulverized stone, scorched roofs and torn dirt. And yet the residents were hardy and enduring as always, bustling about the business of repairing their homes and rebuilding. He couldn’t help but admire them. The villagers of Kakariko were a tough bunch. 

Passing a few familiar faces, he nodded in greeting but kept on his way, navigating the busy streets to the village graveyard. 

Expecting to hear the usual peace and quiet of the graveyard, it made his ears scream with agony to instead hear high-pitched, tinny screeching. 

With a grimace, Dark ran up the pathway to find the source of the racket and make it stop. 

“Link! Wake up, Link!” 

“Navi?” Dark came to a lurching stop, catching his breath. “What's--?” 

He answered his unspoken question when his gaze landed on Link, unconscious and deathly pale. Death being the key word. 

Kneeling beside his friend, Dark pressed a finger to his pulse point, then lifted his closed eye lids. 

“He's alive,” he assured the panicking fairy, who was busy bobbing around his head and making that awful, tinny noise. “Be quiet and calm down!” 

“Easy for you to say!” Navi hissed. “If he dies--” 

“He's not going to die,” Dark growled. “Not if I can help it. Now be useful and tell me what the hell happened!” 

Navi grumbled in annoyance but said, “He was bitten by some dark creature in the Shadow Temple. I think it may have poisoned him, but I've never seen anything like it before!” 

Dark peeled the sleeve of Link's tunic aside to inspect the damage with a wince. “Definitely poison,” he agreed. It was working fast, if the blue-black discoloration snaking its way through Link's veins was any indication. Hauling Link's limp form up and over his shoulder, Dark stood up and said to Navi, “You're a fairy; maybe you can point me to the Great Fairy's fountain near here.” 

Navi's wings fluttered. “How do you know of the Great Fairy's fountain?” 

“It doesn't matter. Take me to her, now.” Dark gave Link a shake. “He won't last much longer.” 

Navi shot him a narrow-eyed glare, but she flew over to a grave two rows down near the graveyard centre. Sensing the presence of another fairy, the dirt beneath the headstone heaved and crumbled, giving way to a tunnel leading deep under the ground. Navi dove into the opening, lighting the way with her wings' glow while Dark followed, carrying Link. 

Stygian blackness gave way to piercing light as the fountain came into view. Blinking, Dark laid Link at the edge of the stone basin, turning to his fairy companion. 

“Well?” he asked pointedly. 

“Give it a minute,” she grumbled. 

A column of water erupted from the fountain's centre, revealing the form of a magenta-haired woman as the gush of water dropped back into the pool. 

“Great Fairy,” Navi said, her head bowed in respect. “Please help us!” 

The fairy turned moss-green eyes on Link, her beautiful face drawn in a frown. “This is terrible magic,” she said in a voice as soft as a mother's kiss. “I am afraid I cannot help him.” 

“You're a Great Fairy,” Dark cut in before Navi could protest. “Your healing magic is unparalleled, isn't it? So, save him!” 

He glanced down at Link, the panic he'd beat back crawling its way back up his throat. Link was the last of his family. If he died... 

The great fairy looked to him, and Dark wished he hadn't drawn her attention. Fairies beings of magic, of goodness and light. The curse inside him was a monster, curling taloned hands around his heart. He imagined he could feel it eating away at his flesh from the inside like acid. He couldn't bear to have her see it within him. 

From the way her eyes shuttered with sadness, she knew what afflicted him. 

“Ganondorf's influence has taken its toll on the world,” she told him. “I draw my strength from the well of magic in the Sacred Realm. With its corruption, I have grown weaker.” 

“What can be done?” Dark persisted. “I swear I will do anything. I need to save him. He's my...my family.” 

Navi's head spun around, her eyes round. The great fairy didn't break his gaze. 

“I know of your connection to him,” she confirmed. “You share the same blood. This will allow you to save his life.” 

“What is it?” he asked, ignoring Navi's disbelieving stare. 

“You can take the poison into your own body. It will not harm you, but it will add to your burden.” 

Dark didn't need her to tell him the burden she spoke of was his curse. He squeezed his eyes shut, gathering himself. There was really no choice. Either he suffered a stronger dose of the curse, or his brother died. 

Even if he could stomach choosing himself over Link, he knew Link's destiny was far more important than anything else. Even Dark's life. 

“I understand,” he said, opening his eyes and meeting the fairy's gaze. 

The great fairy's sympathy was clear; it was worse than hot coals burning his skin where she looked at him. 

Summoning his magic, Dark reached out to the part of him that was Shadow, as Impa had taught him. The familiar pressure squeezed around him like the air was being sucked out of the space around him. He let the restriction tighten around him until it abruptly released. 

The Great Fairy's fountain was no longer a bright and vibrant place. As grey and solid as the stone it was made of, it was as if someone had paused reality and sapped it of colour and life. The walls no longer shimmered with arcs of light, the pool's water no longer rippled. Navi and the great fairy were gone. 

Link still lay on the fountain, the poison appearing as an inky coil, wrapped around his body. 

Dark reached out to pull away the tendrils of poison when they recoiled, squeezing more tightly around Link. The tendrils became a snake, raising its black head to stare at Dark with slitted, crimson eyes. 

Dark's breath stuck in his throat. 

“You're not afraid, are you?” 

Dark spun around, reaching for a weapon but grasping only air. He'd left everything behind. Standing before him was an exact image of himself, real and life-like in a false reality. 

“Afraid of what?” he demanded of his Shadow-reflection. “Who are you?” 

The shadow-him smirked, an expression Dark found curiously enraging. “Afraid of yourself, of course. You don't want to take the poison. If you do, how will you ever beat the curse?” He leaned in, the smirk morphing into a taunting grin. “How will you ever save Sienna if you can't get rid of all that darkness inside you?” 

The shadow-Dark laughed. “'Darkness'. But that's who you are, right? Dark.” 

Dark grimaced. “Are you here to make bad jokes about my name or are you here just to annoy me?” 

“We like to make jokes. It's our way of avoiding the real issue, isn't it?” 

“We're not the same,” Dark growled. 

“Oh, but we are!” The shadow vanished, reappearing at Dark's shoulder in an instant, leaning close. “We are exactly the same, you and I. I'm just another part of you. One that was unlocked by that sweet little curse.” 

Growing impatient with the antics while Link's life was siphoned away, Dark snapped, “What do you want?” 

His shadow-self walked over to where Link lay, reaching down to snatch the snake behind its head. The beast hissed in rage, coiling its body into itself. 

“You're afraid of amplifying it,” the shadow said to Dark, watching the futile struggles of the snake. His eyes were eerie, glowing vibrantly crimson in the realm of Shadow. “But it's the only way.” 

With his other hand, he grabbed Dark's forearm in an impossibly strong grip. Dark instinctively resisted, but his efforts were as useless as the snake's writhing in his other self's grasp. 

“What are you doing?” he demanded. 

The shadow met his gaze. “It's the only way,” he repeated. “I don't want him to die, do you?” 

Dark hesitated, glancing at Link. While he was distracted, his shadow-self plunged the snake's fangs into a thick vein in his forearm. Dark ripped free with a shout of pain. The snake's skin peeled away into a pile of ash with a last sharp hiss. The puncture wounds on Dark's arm throbbed. Dark slapped a hand over the wound to stop the blood, glaring at his shadow. 

His other self just shrugged. “I want to be free,” it told him. “The only way to do that is to break our curse.” 

“Which you just made that much harder to do!” Dark roared, itching to get his hands around the other's neck. 

“Find a way,” the shadow hissed. “Or we lose everything.” 

Invisible pressure slammed into Dark, knocking him off his feet, overwhelming his senses until there was nothing he could see, hear, feel. Pain exploded in his arm, racing up towards his heart. Dark screamed. 

Then it was over, and he was back in the Great Fairy's fountain, lying on the floor and clutching his arm in a white-knuckled grip. 

Panting, he rolled into a sitting position, disoriented. Navi hovered over Link, who seemed to be coming to. Dark reached up to swipe a hand over his face. To his shock, his arm continued to throb, though there was no sign of the punctures in his skin. 

“What happened?” Link muttered groggily. 

Navi looked to where Dark was sitting, but he was too shell-shocked to answer. 

“You're alright now,” the fairy assured Link. “We should take him back to Kakariko. He needs help,” she added to Dark. 

Dark forced himself to get up and move to Link’s side. “Okay there, friend?” he asked, smiling in relief when Link opened his eyes. 

“Yeah,” he rasped. “Dark? What--” 

“Come on,” Dark interrupted, reaching an arm under Link’s shoulders to help prop him up. “Navi’s right. We need to get back to the village.” 

Link was in no position to argue, so Dark lifted him to his feet, thanking Din when his strength held, and his legs supported both their weights. As he supported Link back through the tunnel, Dark’s mind tortured him with the image of his own face, staring back at him with those unfamiliar eyes. Cursed eyes. 

Somehow, as he and Link crossed back into Kakariko to look for aid, Dark couldn’t stop the feeling that he was now beyond help.


	45. Misgivings

Link awoke in a familiar bed, staring up at the wooden beams supporting the roof of Impa’s house. He was back in her guest room. He frowned. Someone had laid him in bed? 

Turning his head, he registered with only mild surprise that Dark sat at his bedside. One foot propped over the opposite knee, leaned slightly forward, a book held idly in one hand while the other turned the pages, Dark didn’t notice he was awake. 

“Dark?” Link grimaced when his voice came out rough as gravel. 

The other man looked up, then smiled. “Ah, welcome back to the land of the living, Hero.” Dark stood and grabbed a spare pillow to prop behind Link’s back while he sat up. 

“What happened?” Link managed. “I don’t remember…” 

“I found you in the graveyard,” he explained. “Poisoned by one of the foul monsters in the Shadow Temple, Navi said. I took you to the Great Fairy’s Fountain to heal you.” 

Link tried to stretch, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. “You saved me, then? Thank you.” 

Waving a dismissive hand, book still clasped in it, Dark said, “Consider it repayment for saving me from that white wolfos in Snowpeak. Besides, Fayne’s magic helped after I brought you back.” 

Link grunted in acknowledgement. “Where is Navi, anyways?” 

“With the indomitable Malon. And I say that as the highest form of compliment.” Dark grinned. “She scarcely left your bedside these past three days. I finally convinced her this morning to get some food, fresh air.” 

It was Link’s turn to smile. “She’s a good friend. As soon as I can get out of bed, I’ll thank her.” 

“Just a friend, hm?” Dark teased, setting aside his book. Link shot him a glare. It didn’t deter him one iota. 

“What’s been happening in Kakariko since I’ve been asleep?” 

Dark shrugged. “I arrived only a few days ago myself. But from what I can tell, the resistance is getting back into fighting form, fixing things up and pulling in yet more refugees. The place is getting downright crowded. Luckily, the gorons have space to spare.” 

“What about Impa?” 

“Busy as always. You want some tea? Malon made some before she left.” 

Link nodded, watching Dark walk over to the bedroom’s small fireplace and kneel to get the kettle. He blew out a heavy sigh. “I’m glad to see you and Epona made it from Lake Hylia.” 

There was a clatter when Dark dropped the cup he was holding. Snatching it off the floor, he wiped it on his shirt and filled it to the brim. 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Glad to see you made it out of the depths of the Shadow Temple in one piece.” 

Link frowned at the offered cup of tea in Dark’s hand. “Is everything okay?” 

Dark nodded. “Of course. And Epona is in the stables if you want to see her. Malon’s been taking care of her.” 

“That’s good.” Link took a sip of the tea. It filled him with a warmth he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. “I might need Epona for the search for the final Sage.” 

“Any idea where they might be?” 

“None,” he grumbled. “I was hoping Impa could tell me.” 

“Unfortunately, I can’t.” 

Both men glanced up at the sound of the Sheikah woman’s voice. She stepped into the room, a slight smile tugging at her mouth. 

“Sorry for the intrusion.” She nodded at Link. “I am happy to see you’re feeling better.” 

“Thanks to Dark and the others,” Link replied. “So you don’t know who the other Sages are?” 

“Not until they’re awoken,” she said. “Once Sheik returns, I will ask him. He has spent a good deal of time researching the Sages. He may have some clues.” 

“Good enough for me.” Link sighed. “But I’ve already wasted enough time—” 

“Not wasted,” Impa said firmly. “Recovering. And you need more of it.” She gave him a gentle shove against his shoulder. “Get some rest. We’ll talk soon.” 

Link feigned a protest but dutifully gulped back some more tea. Satisfied, she turned to leave. 

“Impa,” Dark shot up from the stool. “May I talk to you? Privately,” he added, with a jerk of his chin towards Link. 

Impa tilted her head, indicating the hall. Dark followed her outside the room. 

Once out of Link’s earshot, Impa’s expression became grave. “It’s about your curse, isn’t it?” she asked. 

Dark started, meeting her eyes. With a sick shock, he realized his own probably looked nearly like her own—deep crimson and unnerving. 

“You know?” 

Her face didn’t change, but somehow she made him feel like an oblivious idiot all the same. He sighed. 

“Alatar.” 

Impa inclined her head. Her strange eyes softened with sympathy. “I am sorry for what he did to you.” 

Dark stared at a spot on the wall. “Not your doing,” he replied tonelessly. “Is there any way to undo it?” he asked, not meeting her eyes. No reason to get his hopes up. 

“I’m afraid not.” 

At least Impa doesn’t mince her words, he thought. “Thought not,” he growled. He looked back at her. “In the meantime, maybe there’s something else you can help me with.” 

***** 

Kakariko was just as much a hub of activity in the Shadow realm as it was in the real world. 

People walked past him in blurs of colour, indistinct and wispy. To them, he was a shadow. A vision glimpsed in the corner of one’s eye. 

Wreckage from the recent attack was notably absent, but the houses and other buildings were flickering between ruins under construction and freshly built like a recording in his brain that was being paused, rewound and fast forward again. 

Structures and streets warped as the recording spun backwards, changing the map of the town as Dark was propelled into a decade long past. Impa had warned him that places such as Kakariko could be chaotic spaces. The resilient village and its hardy villagers had lived through ages of time, and in the Shadow realm, they all collided. 

A kaleidoscope of images winked in and out wherever he looked, different versions of the past being brought to the surface. 

Dark focused on the ground, trying to ignore the activity in his peripherals long enough to do what he needed. 

As Impa had instructed, he focused on Sienna—his connection to her. Shadow was by nature a difficult element to master, but immensely useful, as he soon discovered. Responding to his silent search, thin threads of light appeared at his fingertips. He wiggled his digits, making the threads flutter. Dark singled out the thread glowing brightest, a pale lavender, giving it a mental tug. 

Kakariko melted away, leaving him in a stygian void of nothingness. Only the pale string of light remained to cut through the darkness. He waited a few heartbeats, curling his fingers around the imaginary light. 

The blackness receded, leaving him in a cool stone chamber with a low ceiling. Dark watched the lavender thread pulse once before disappearing. When he looked up, Sienna stood there, her arms wrapped around herself, her image transparent and indistinct. 

It had worked, just as the Sheikah woman had said. He’d made it to the dungeons below Hyrule Castle. 

**~oOo~**

Sienna paced the limited space of her cell, wearing away at the centuries-old stone beneath her shoes. The habit was more to keep her warm than due to any restlessness on her part. 

Although it was cold, dark and lonely, it was dry. She had a reasonable bed with a blanket. Her captors even brought her regular meals and fresh water. She didn’t mind the solitude most times. 

What bothered her the most was the impotence. The helplessness. Knowing Dark and others were in danger and not being able to do anything. She’d tried the first few days to use magic to reach him, but her gifts were frustratingly limited. Communicating with someone through telepathy or other means was an extremely rare talent. 

Giving up on warming herself, Sienna sat on the narrow bed and picked up the discarded bowl of soup that was her dinner. She’d raised the spoon to her lips when movement in the corner of the cell caught her eye. 

Bolting upright, she clenched the spoon in a shaking fist. It’s just a mouse, she reassured herself, or something equally harmless. The shadows moved again—much bigger than a rodent. Not only that, they were…taking shape. 

Sienna bit back a scream when the blackness surged upwards, peeling away to reveal a human form. 

“Sienna!” 

The spoon dropped to the floor. Sienna’s breath stuck in her chest. She let out a strangled whimper. “Dark?” 

He was there. He wasn’t a dream. Not a hallucination. With a cry, she threw herself at him, heart sinking in relief when she felt his arms come around her, solid and real and warm. 

“You’re real,” she mumbled into his shirt. “You’re alive.” 

“I’m here,” he whispered, his breath teasing her hair. 

She pulled back from him, framing his face in her hands. “How are you here? What’s happened?” 

“It’s a long story.” His fingers curled around her shoulders, spreading warmth down into her bones. “I came as soon as I was able. Once I escaped, I was helping Link and—” 

“Where are you now?” She shook her head. “I mean, where did you come from?” 

“Kakariko. Everyone is fine,” he added, seeing her mouth open to ask more questions. Dark stroked her cheek, brushing away the chill on her skin. “I had to come and see you. Make sure you were alright.” 

Sienna managed a small smile. “I’ve slept in better places,” she admitted. “But they’re keeping me alive, at least.” 

“I’m going to get you out of this place,” he vowed, hugging her against his chest. “I promise. I would take you with me now, but Impa said it was risky. That I could lose you.” 

“I understand. Here, come sit with me for a moment.” She drew back, keeping his hand in hers while she backed towards the bed. 

Dark resisted her pull, staying in the shadows where the torchlight outside the cell bars couldn’t reach him. 

“What’s wrong, Dark?” 

He was so still he didn’t even seem to breathe. She felt his retreat, the loss of his warmth, as if a wall had suddenly sprung between them. 

“It’s best if I stay here.” 

Sienna frowned. “Don’t be silly, come—” Her words ended in a gasp when she tugged on his arm and she met his eyes, her own having adjusted. “Oh, Dark,” she whispered. “Your eyes. What did he do to you?” 

He wrenched his arm free, turned his face away. Slowly, Sienna lifted her hand toward him. 

“Don’t.” 

She curled her hand back towards her chest. “That sorcerer. He did this, didn’t he?” 

“It’s nothing. I’ll fix it.” 

“Maybe I can use my healing magic—” 

“It can’t be cured,” Dark gritted out. “I just have to find a way to stop him, that’s all. Once I do, I can free you.” 

Sienna shivered, the chill reclaiming its territory. A muscle twitched in Dark’s face, but he kept himself angled away. 

“I’ll go back and help Link finish his quest. Once he does, he’ll be ready to face Ganondorf, and I can take care of Alatar.” 

He caved when another tremor shook her, wrapping her in his embrace and chafing her bare arms. “I’m sorry I have to leave you here.” 

“It’s not y-your fault.” 

He released her momentarily to strip the blanket from the bed and wrap it around her shoulders. 

“I’ll come back when I can.” He grimaced. “It drains a lot of magic to do this, but I may be able to bring you warmer clothes and more blankets.” 

Sienna brushed away the tears that had formed in the corners of her eyes. “I’ll be fine, Dark. I promise. Besides, you should leave before the guard comes for his nighttime rounds. You won’t be able to save anyone from in here.” 

“Sienna—” 

She pressed her fingers to his mouth. “Knowing you’re safe, knowing you’re doing everything you can to make things right, to help people,” she pressed a kiss to his palm, “that’s important.” 

Dark crushed her closer, one hand cradling her head while he dotted kisses over the crown of her head. “Take this,” he said, stripping off his shirt. “It’s not much, but it’ll do until I can bring more.” 

After dropping the shirt over her head, he cupped her hands and lifted them to his mouth, trying to heat them with his breath. 

“Dark?” 

“Hm?” 

Sienna tried to catch his eyes, but he kept them pinned to her knuckles. “I love you.” 

His gaze briefly ticked up to hers before darting away. “I love you, too. I will come back for you. Stay safe.” 

Stepping back, he released her hands, ready to be swallowed by the shadows once again. Energy swirled around him in an invisible embrace. A thought that had been digging at the back of her mind burst through. 

“Dark, wait!” 

He paused. “What is it?” 

Sienna lowered her voice, though they were alone in the dungeon. “It’s Sheik…I saw him before they brought me down here. He’s—He’s one of them, Dark. He’s working for Ganondorf.” 

Disbelief then fury slashed across Dark’s half-hidden face. 

“You can’t trust him,” Sienna whispered. “I think he’s been fooling everyone this whole time.” 

Dark reached for her hand again. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll make sure Impa and the others know.” 

“Please be safe, Dark,” she implored him. 

His thumb brushed over her jaw. “I will. I’ll be back soon.” 

Just like that, he was gone again. 

**~oOo~**

Impa was gone when he returned to Kakariko, likely off attending to something else. Dark let the last tendrils of magic dissipate, feeling its loss like a phantom pain. He would need to replenish right away if he wanted to return to Sienna. 

Her skin had been so cold. It made his stomach drop into his boots to leave her there, but transporting another living, breathing person through Shadow was dangerous. He might lose her along the way and never be able to find her again… 

Spearing his fingers through his hair, mussing it, he turned to Impa’s well-loved kitchen, searching her cabinets until he found some green potion—that apple green, magic-replenishing tonic—and took a healthy swig. Sparks raced down his throat and spread, following the internal trails of his veins. 

That was better. Now to gather what few supplies Impa had to spare and bring them back to Sienna. Dark hurried back upstairs to the guest room, stopping when he heard voices from Link’s room. 

Carefully, he eased open the door, his inner alarm pinging when he saw it was Sheik at his brother’s bedside. Dark burst into the room, making Link look up sharply. His friend relaxed, but Sheik’s expression didn’t budge. Not even when Dark’s glare lasered his covered face. 

“Dark, you’re back.” Link waved him over. “You’re just in time. Sheik has some good news.” 

“Does he?” Dark asked, knowing he’d failed in his attempt at nonchalance as he drew up a spare chair and planted himself right next to Sheik. 

Sheik’s side-eyed glance at Dark flicked back to Link. “Yes…as I was saying, I have a lead on the whereabouts of the final Sage.” 

“You seem to know a lot about the Sages,” Dark commented. 

Link cut him off. “Where?” 

“Her name is Nabooru. And she is in hiding deep in the Gerudo desert at a place called the Colossus.” 

Link threw back the blankets covering him. “Then we need to go! Dark—“ 

Sheik pushed Link back into bed with a firm hand on his shoulder, then let go as if he’d been burned by the touch. Dark slanted his eyes towards Sheik, searching his expression, but it betrayed nothing. 

“You can’t go anywhere until you’re fully recovered,” Sheik said, his tone its usual emotionless self. Dark frowned. 

“He’s right,” Dark grumbled. 

“You shouldn’t go alone,” Sheik added. “Which is why I will accompany you.” 

“He already has an annoying fairy sidekick,” Dark snapped. “And he has me. He’s covered.” 

Sheik’s eyes flashed. Dark internally grinned. 

“Nonetheless, it is a dangerous journey. We will be crossing right through Ganondorf’s territory, not to mention the haunted wasteland and—” 

“You can both come,” Link offered, unaware of the tension rising between Sheik and Dark. “Navi and I can use all the help we can get, especially since Impa and the other Sages are needed elsewhere.” 

“It’s decided then.” Sheik stood and turned to Dark, his eyes blank as slates. “We’ll leave in a few days.” 

“Perfect,” Dark muttered, watching Sheik exit the bedroom. “Just perfect.” 

***** 

Over a week later, Link, Dark and Sheik had nearly reached their destination. Crossing the expanse of central Hyrule’s pastoral countryside was time consuming under good conditions. Crossing it while dodging monsters and Ganondorf’s soldiers’ patrols was another matter. 

Link let out an internal sigh of relief when Sheik called for a halt. With darkness approaching, it was wiser to stop and make camp. Monsters became even more forbidding once the moon rose. The three slid off their horses, reaching to unpack their saddle bags and gear. 

“Forgot how sore you get after a few days of riding,” Dark complained, stretching his arms above his head, then pressing his palms into his back, arching backwards. “My arse has gone numb.” 

Link chuckled while he slid off Epona’s saddle. “You haven’t ridden in a while?” he asked. 

Dark, tending his own horse, said, “Not since I moved to Clocktown. No need. Although I’ve always been fond of them.” He clucked his tongue at the mare while he removed her saddle, giving her a fond pat. 

Taking the leads of all three horses, Dark guided them into the copse of pines where they would take shelter for the night. The horses needed no encouragement to begin grazing. Dark snuck a glance at Sheik, refilling their water supply at the nearby stream. He walked back to where Link was building a fire and organizing their gear. 

“Why did you move to Clocktown?” Link asked conversationally. 

“Wanted a fresh start, I suppose,” Dark said, making himself useful and starting on dinner while Link started the fire. 

Normally, it would be a simple thing to use a spark of magic to light it in an instant, rather than let Link use flint. But he needed every speck of magic he could, especially since he’d need it to check on Sienna and bring her food and blankets again—these little trips he’d kept to himself, of course. 

Link and Dark talked while they ate in front of the fire, the sky transforming into indigo twilight above them. Navi dozed in Link’s hat next to the heat of the fire, and Sheik was totally silent. 

Soon enough, Link curled up on his bedroll and went to sleep. Dark waited until Sheik lay still, his back to the fire, and Link’s snores could be heard before getting up and walking a short distance into the trees. 

Manipulating Shadow was becoming easier, so it only took a moment to get back to the castle dungeons. Sienna was asleep on her poor excuse for a bed, so Dark spread the spare blanket over her prone form and tucked it close to her. She stirred, mumbling sleepily. A strand of curly hair dropped across her forehead, so Dark carefully pushed it back into place. 

Wanting to stay and watch over her, but knowing he shouldn’t risk Sheik catching him sneaking off—it wouldn’t help to make him suspicious—he re-entered the Shadow realm and emerged back in the woods. 

The dying fire was just visible when a shiver pricked at the back of his neck. 

“Out for a midnight stroll?” Sheik asked in that strange, quiet voice. 

Dark clenched his fingers into fists, deliberately not whipping his head around in surprise. He could almost see Sheik behind him, just over his shoulder, leaning against a pine. 

“Practicing,” Dark explained in a casual tone. “It helps when I can’t sleep, and I want to be prepared.” 

“Are you concerned?” 

Dark’s eyes narrowed. “Of course. We’re heading into unknown enemy territory, right?” 

He chanced a look over his shoulder. Sheik’s eyes were unreadable. 

“Of course,” the Sheikah said at last. 

An uncomfortable silence stretched on. Far off, a crow cackled. 

“You’re very protective of him,” Sheik blurted. “For not knowing him long.” 

Dark replied, “I could say the same of you.” 

“I was tasked with helping Link.” 

“By who?” 

Sheik’s expression hardened, though it was more in the eyes and the twitch of fabric around his mouth that gave it away. “Princess Zelda.” 

Dark tried not to snort in disbelief. “Ah, I see. All business, then, is it?” 

Sheik didn’t move. He might have been a statue. 

“He talks of her often, you know,” Dark said. “If you know where she is, you should tell him.” 

“I can’t.” Sheik’s eyes flicked to the left. “She...is in hiding. It’s dangerous.” 

Shrugging, Dark said, “I understand.” He started back towards the campfire. 

“What is your reason for helping him?” Sheik prodded. 

Halting midstep, Dark was unsure how to answer. By helping Link, he was helping to free Sienna. He was aiding the people of Hyrule. But he was also bringing himself closer to defeating Ganondorf, the man who had killed his parents. 

And then there was the fact that Link was his brother. The last of his family. 

“He needs me,” was all Dark said, in a mutter so quiet he wasn’t sure Sheik even heard. 

Lying back down on his bedroll, Dark kept his back to Sheik when he returned to the camp a long minute later. He said nothing else, the silent night broken by the low crackle of burning embers and the calling of crows.


	46. Desert of Illusion

Sheik needed to take action. 

If Dark had trusted him before the attack on Kakariko—which Sheik seriously doubted—he no longer did. His suspicion of Sheik combined with his nightly disappearances made sense if Dark was visiting Sienna in secret inside Hyrule Castle. 

Sheik hadn’t meant for Sienna to see him, but it was likely she sent the message to Dark that Sheik was not to be trusted. By all appearances, he wasn’t. 

“You going to buy that or not, boy?” 

Sheik tossed a few rupees at the impatient shopkeeper and thanked him. Grabbing the bundle of cloth on the counter, he turned to scan the crowd for his companions. 

They were on the edge of desert territory, having traveled for a day and a half through the vast Gerudo canyon on Hyrule’s western side. The town they stopped in to buy supplies for the rest of the journey wasn’t so much a town as a trading post plopped into the canyon mouth. 

Thanks to Ganondorf’s soldiers using it, the place remained bustling even now. A loose collection of tents, booths and sandstone buildings housed a mixture of peoples and goods. Remote as it was, it attracted traders from neighbouring lands and those from nomadic tribes to stop by. 

Watching some of those milling around, Sheik was glad he kept his face covered. Followers and Ganondorf were everywhere, and there was always someone eager enough for a reward to turn on them. 

Spotting the other two standing with their horses, packing their saddlebags with water, Sheik slipped through the crowd fluidly, beneath notice. Quiet as he was, Dark’s shoulders still twitched at his approach. Did the man have eyes under his hair? Sheik wondered in annoyance. 

Dark’s mistrust of Sheik was making his mission that much more difficult. But he couldn’t fault him—Sheik was, after all, playing both sides. Out of necessity, he reminded himself firmly. 

“Sheik,” Link greeted him with his usual smile. “Did you get what you needed?” 

At least Link still trusts me, Sheik thought. He unfurled the bundle in his hands, revealing three long, lightweight cloaks. They would protect them from the wind and sun during their passage through the desert. The Gerudo’s fortress was well-hidden in another area of the canyon, inaccessible unless one crossed the wasteland. It was dangerous, but it was the best way back to the Colossus. Sheik was also counting on the help of the Gerudo still loyal to Nabooru above all else. 

Taking his cloak and securing it around his shoulders, Dark said, “How long will it take to cross the desert?” 

“A day,” Sheik replied. “We’ll have to make camp in the haunted wasteland for one night.” 

“Haunted wasteland?” Dark repeated, one black eyebrow arched. 

“We’ll be fine.” 

Dark snorted. Link pulled his hood up over his head, covering his face. “What about when we reach Gerudo Fortress? Do you have a plan to sneak through the gate?” 

Sheik nodded. “Leave that to me.” 

Finished with preparations, the three of them each grabbed the lead of their mount and cleared a path through the throng. Amid the squawks and calls of cuccos and other animals, the lilting roar of the crowd and the hot breeze causing trinkets to rattle and clink, a man’s voice cut through. 

“—better place to hide, is there?” he said. 

“In the desert?” his friend scoffed. “Surely the princess could do better.” 

Sheik internally groaned when Link snapped to attention. Dark bumped into his back with a grunt and a frown. 

“What is it?” 

Link, wide-eyed, searched the sea of faces until he picked out who’d spoken. 

“She’d be wiser not to hide in Hyrule at all,” the man was saying. He sat at a table outside the tavern, tapping the edge of his cup against his knee. “I’d head to Labrynna, were it me.” 

“All I know is what my friend told me,” the other man responded with a shrug. “It’s just a rumour.” 

Link edged closer, pushing past others. Sheik laid a hand on his shoulder, tugging him back. 

“Rumours, Link,” he said quietly. “Nothing more. Princess Zelda isn’t here.” What’s one more lie? He thought bitterly. 

“You don’t know that.” Link jerked around, his expression a contorted mix of hope and doubt. 

Sheik shook his head, lowering his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look into Link’s. “We can’t waste time searching for her on such limited information. You know that.” 

To his surprise, Dark agreed. 

Dark gave Link a sympathetic look. “People say all kinds of things,” he said to his friend. He glanced briefly at Sheik. “We will help you find her; I promise. But right now, we need to keep moving.” 

Reluctantly, Link turned away. Dark fixed Sheik with a discerning stare before following. With a heart of lead, Sheik walked in their wake. Throughout this whole charade, painful and perilous though it was, the thing that hurt most was lying to him. 

And you are still lying to Link. Keeping secrets from him. 

Sheik forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand. Keep your mind on the next objective. Don’t let yourself dwell. The mission comes first, always. 

He needed to get Link to the Spirit Temple and the final Sage. 

And then, the traitorously optimistic thought slipped in, this will all be over. 

**~oOo~**

Gerudo Canyon was an eerie place. Its high walls and narrow passages lent themselves to ambush, which made the back of Dark’s neck itch with alertness. 

The haunted wasteland, though, was downright spooky. 

The Gerudo Desert stretched on for miles and miles of sunbaked sand and windswept dunes. Dotted with small hubs of civilization huddled close to the trade road that traversed it, the desert welcomed travellers coming to and from Hyrule from the west. The rest of its territory was unknown. Largely unexplored except by Gerudo and ghosts. 

It was into one of these unmapped territories Sheik was leading them, and its very atmosphere made Dark shiver despite the intense heat. There nothing but sand as far as the horizon, and yet he felt invisible eyes on his back, watching their progress. 

There was no road to guide them, but Sheik marched forward with confidence. He was following the strict directions of the woman they were seeking: Nabooru. 

Dark harbored his own doubts about the Gerudo woman’s willingness to help them, Sage or not, but he kept them to himself. But he didn’t dismiss the possibility that their guide was leading them into a trap. 

And what better place to strand us? He mused, looking up at the searing sun. Even in its setting, it was too hot—a huge, boiling ball of fire on the western horizon. It shimmered across the sand, changing its colour as twilight neared. 

“We can stop here for the night,” Sheik announced, steering them to a large overhang of brown-red rock. Beneath it there was some shelter from the wind. 

By the time the sun set and blackness so absolute it smothered them arrived, their camp was set. The flames of their campfire kept the darkness at bay. It hung in the air like smoke, waiting for one of them to leave the protective circle of light. 

While the horses munched on the scant vegetation they found in the sand, Link, Sheik and Dark ate dinner and tended the fire. The stars were abnormally bright in the desert, and their pure white light illuminated the shadows and made the landscape seem less menacing. While the other two curled up in their bedrolls, Dark lay on his back on his side of the fire, tracing invisible constellations in his mind. 

He wasn’t sure why, but his mind rebelled against sleeping. The gently rolling dunes, now edged with silver-white, were actually sort of pretty. The sky was incredible—a mosaic ceiling of light. 

But the usual nighttime sounds were gone. Instead he heard whispers, harsh but indistinct. They came from nowhere, drifting to his ears. But when he turned his head, there was nothing there. 

Stuffing his cloak under his head as a pillow, Dark settled down to bed. He began to hum softly, a song that Sienna used to sing often, drowning out the voices until he could sleep undisturbed. 

**~oOo~**

_She was the most beautiful woman he’d laid eyes on. _

_Silver-blond hair hung down past her waist, framing that angelic face, falling gracefully over her brow. She was very tall, intimidating but not imposing, in a plain white dress that covered her head to toe. Her eyes were warm and cerulean as a tropical sea. _

_Her pale mouth curved in a sweet smile. _

_“Who are you?” Link asked. _

_But his mouth didn’t move. His words weren’t spoken. _

_Her mouth opened. She spoke in a voice so light and comforting it felt like a physical touch. _

_“I have chosen you,” she said. “You are Hyrule’s last hope.” _

_Without his command, Link’s knees bent to rest on the ground. His hand raised to his heart. _

_“If you have need of me,” said a deep voice from Link’s throat—was that his voice? — “I will fight alongside you.” _

_Her smile grew, but the ground began to shake violently, heaving upwards and it was rent apart by enormous cracks. A yawning chasm opened before Link—he could see down into the depths of the earth. _

_The vision of the woman in the white dress was gone, and once again Link’s body reacted on its own, moving away from the edge, drawing his sword. Link watched through a familiar stranger’s eyes as the gigantic, dark form of a demonic creature pulled itself free from the chasm, crawling out into the light. _

_Howling in rage, making the earth tremble anew, the monster came towards Link. For the battle that ensued, Link was a mere spectator. It went on for hours, days maybe. The vision passed in a blur of metal, teeth, claws, light and darkness. When at last the great monster fell with an agonized shriek, the blinding light faded to reveal the woman in white. _

_This time her eyes were sad as she leaned over him. Was he lying on the ground? Her hands brushed his face, cradled his head. A tear trailed down her smooth cheek. _

_“I’m so sorry...”_

The strange dream dissolved so abruptly Link needed several moments to remember where he was. 

The desert. He was lying in his bedroll, safe. The earth wasn’t splitting open. There were no monsters trying to kill him. 

Link exhaled sharply, lifting his hands to swipe them over his face. At least his body was his own now. 

Rolling onto his side, his gaze caught Dark’s sleeping form across the fire and a surge of adrenaline shot through his heart. Standing over the other man was a Stalfos, a skeleton soldier with glowing red eyes as cold and cruel as the blade it carried. Instinctively, Link reached for his bow and quiver. 

“Dark!” he bellowed. In seconds Link knocked and fired an arrow. It hit its mark, but the Stalfos was unharmed. With a hollow cackle, the phantom disappeared in a swirl of smoke. 

Dark jerked awake, his hands already on the hilt of his sword, head on a swivel as he looked for the unseen danger. Link stared open-mouthed at the spot where the Stalfos vanished. 

“Link? What’s wrong?” Sheik’s voice, calm and steady as ever. Unfazed. 

Link lowered the bow. “There was a Stalfos...right there, about to attack Dark.” 

Dark glanced warily over his shoulder as if the beast might suddenly reappear to finish the job. 

“It wasn’t real,” Sheik explained. “The desert will make you see things that aren’t really there. Things that cause you pain, or grief. Memories of your greatest sorrows.” 

Link and Dark shared a look. “I had...some strange dreams,” Link admitted. 

Dark raked a hand through his hair. “I haven’t been able to sleep much either,” he muttered. 

“It should pass,” the Sheikah assured them. “I’ll keep watch. You both need rest for tomorrow.” 

“What if you see more visions?” Link asked. 

Sheik’s eyes tracked over the expanse of sand. “It’s just a desert,” he said. “I see nothing.” 

Dark frowned at Sheik, his jaw clenched. Link’s eyes were on Sheik’s back as he walked a short distance away from the camp. 

Not for the first time, Link wondered what it was about Sheik that made him so uneasy. He seemed to have no fear of anything. No feeling at all, really. How could the desert’s influence not affect him? 

_What was he?_

The group settled back to sleep; Link was almost drifting off when a piercing cry ripped into his eardrums. He shot up from the bedroll, his body reacting to the unseen danger before his sleep-fogged brain. From his peripheral vision he saw a dozen figures charging down from the ledge above. 

The Gerudo skittered down the cliffs like lizard, swarming the camp. Before Dark and Link could grab their weapons, six warriors seized them and tossed them into the sand, subduing them long enough to restrain them. 

While Dark cursed a streak and tried unsuccessfully to squirm away on his belly with his hands tied behind his back, Link was flipped to his back. 

With their faces covered, only their eyes were visible, cold and blank. 

“It's them,” said the woman to Link's left. “Get them up.” 

Roughly jerked to his feet, Link wasn't surprised to see that Dark wore a bandana wrapped over his mouth and was glaring murderously at the Gerudo soldiers holding him. 

When he glanced at Sheik, his adrenaline spiked. The Gerudo completely ignored him, leaving him unbound. 

“Sheik!?” 

Sheik didn't look at Link. Instead, he turned to address the Gerudo warrior dressed in a red tunic, the leader of the group. Dark muttered something incoherent, his expression pinched in angry disbelief. 

“Imara,” Sheik said with eerie calmness. “What are you doing?” 

The woman, Imara, ignored the question. “Bring the horses,” she instructed the others. “We have what we came for.” Sheik reached out for Imara's arm, and she spun, snatching his wrist in a punishing grip. “We leave immediately.” 

Tossing Sheik aside, she stomped off, making no sound in the soft sand. Dark stared after her, shouting muffled insults at her back while he was unceremoniously heaved onto the back of a horse. Link was hauled up like a sack of oats and treated the same. Sheik, dusting off the sand, stood up and glanced at Link. 

Wanting to fling insults as Dark was still doing but unable to come up with a single thing to say, Link glared back. Sheik flinched. 

“Link, listen to me—” 

Link lifted his head as best he could. “How could—” 

Stars exploded in front of his eyes when someone struck him in the back of the head. Sheik’s image in front of him became fuzzy, blurry and then black. 

**~oOo~**

Link woke up on a cold stone floor. 

He rolled to his back with a moan of pain, lifting his hands to his face. His head was broken. His lungs burned in his chest and his wrists ached. Moving his head any tiny bit made bile rise in his throat. 

“Din’s flaming fists! Are we dead yet?" came Dark’s irritated voice. 

“No idea,” Link groaned. “Where are we?” 

“What amounts to a Gerudo prison, I guess.” Dark sighed. 

Link finally found the strength to open his eyes. 

The bare room was big enough for six people to sit comfortably, with a very high ceiling, with a trap door slammed shut in its centre. From the single window high up on the wall, Link could see the purplish hues of dawn creeping in. 

Dark, hunched against the wall cradling his head, looked up. “They took all our weapons, so no help there,” he grumbled. 

Link considered standing up and trying to reach the distance to the window ledge with a jump, but his aching head reminded him that standing up wasn’t an option right now. He slumped against the rock beside Dark, closing his eyes when he felt dizzy. 

“We need to find a way out of here,” Link mumbled. “I can’t believe I was so stupid,” he added in a growl. “I can’t believe I trusted Sheik and he was working with Ganondorf this whole time.” 

“This is my fault. I should have warned you about Sheik back in Kakariko.” 

Dark’s words registered in Link’s mind after a few seconds. “Wait...you knew Sheik would betray us?” He tried to stand up in outrage and slipped, nearly crashing headfirst into the wall. “You knew!?” 

Yanking Link back to the floor, Dark scowled. “Sit down before you kill yourself. You have a head injury, you idiot.” 

“I have a head injury because one of my friends betrayed us to the Gerudo and my other friend didn’t tell me about it!” 

“Look,” Dark hissed. “Before we left on this little trip, I got a message to Sienna. She saw Sheik at Hyrule Castle when they brought her there after the battle in Kakariko. She told me he couldn’t be trusted.” 

Link glared at Dark. “Why didn’t you—” 

“Sheik was already there when I got back,” Dark explained. “You were still recovering – from being poisoned, I remind you -- I didn’t know what he’d do, and you and Impa clearly trusted him.” 

Link sighed and let his head rest against the wall. The throbbing pain intensified with the feelings of anger and betrayal. How could Sheik have fooled him so easily? How could he help Ganondorf? When he’d first met Sheik at the Temple of Time, he’d felt something was a little off. Every time since then, around Sheik, that persistent feeling had followed. There was just something about Sheik that didn’t add up. Yet 

Link frowned. “I feel like an idiot.” 

Dark sighed again and bumped his fist against Link’s shoulder. “You’re not an idiot. Sheik’s a bastard.” 

Sighing, Link looked back up at the window. “Either way, we have a job to do. We need to focus on getting out of here.” He dropped his gaze back to Dark and asked, in all seriousness, “Can I trust you to help me?” 

Dark laughed through his nose and clapped Link on the shoulder. “Of course. Let’s get the hell out of here.” 

“Any ideas?” 

“Not a one.” 

Link snorted. “That was a bit hopeful of me, I guess.” 

Pushing his feet against the floor, Dark slid upwards, using the wall as support. “Alright,” he said, stretching his arms above his head. “Let’s get a look through the window, see if we can keep track of the guards.” 

“How are we supposed to reach it?” Link asked doubtfully, climbing to his feet with a wince. 

“I’ll hoist you.” Dark noted Link’s skeptical expression and tacked on, “You’re a child in a man’s skinny body, I can lift you.” 

“I’m not skinny,” Link defended. 

Dark braced himself against the wall and crouched, holding his laced fingers out. Link moved to step up, and Dark hauled him up. 

“Grab the ledge, tell me what you see.” 

Able to see down into the camp, Link did a quick head count. “Six guards that I can see. The fortress is built in levels—there's too many entrances where we could be spotted.” 

Dark grunted. “Any way down?” 

“Yeah, if you want to plummet several stories straight down.” 

“Faron’s teeth,” Dark growled. 

“Wait!” Link leaned further out the window. “How do you feel about jumping from this ledge onto another ledge?” 

“Better than sitting around here,” Dark said, then paused as another solution occurred to him. “I have another way—I could use the shadow trick Impa taught me.” 

Link turned back to him. “But I’ll still be stuck here if you do that.” 

“Well, I could find my way up to the top and haul you through the trap door in the ceiling,” Dark mused, glancing upwards. “Or, I can help you make the jump onto the ledge below us.” 

The blond made a skeptical face. “It could work. Our timing will have to be right.” 

“Now’s my turn to ask if I trust you.” 

Link tossed a grin over his shoulder. “The roof of the next level is almost perpendicular to this window. The drop isn’t too far, but the angle is tricky. If you can find your way over there without being seen, we can help each other and go from there.” 

“It’ll have to do,” Dark replied. “Give me some time to check this place out. I’ll be back.” 

Perched in the window, Link watched as Dark shut his eyes, summoning the magic within him and commanding it to send him to the world of Shadow. Dark’s form blurred like ink on water, becoming nothing but a black haze of magic that seeped into the stones and vanished like smoke. 

When Dark opened his eyes again, the Gerudo’s fortress had taken on a new appearance. No longer confined in the stone room, Dark was out in the open, with bright sand under his feet and a grey sky overhead. The ghost-like figures of the guards passed by him without seeing him, going about their business in the world of light. 

“Welcome back.” 

Dark spun around, only to groan when he realized who’d addressed him. “Not you again.” 

“You mean, not ‘me’ again,” his shadow-self replied. He moved to Dark’s side, more gliding than walking. “Want some help navigating this place? It’s a maze.” 

Looking where the shadow pointed, Dark’s confidence wavered. The fortress was changed. More than that, it was completely different. It remained carved of sandy-coloured stone, hewn from the desert cliffs and well-hidden, but the layout was shifted. Where a door had been was now a solid wall. Where nothing had been there was now another structure that didn’t exist in the other world. 

“Well, that’s....” 

“Frustrating?” the shadow asked. “I agree.” 

“Okay, numbskull, so how do I find my way back to Link?” 

The shadow chuckled. “You just called yourself a numbskull.” 

“Shut up and answer me.” 

“Fine. You want the same spot, there’s just a different path to take here. It’s not that hard to understand.” 

Dark scanned the area above his head. There was a door on an upper ledge, which should be approximately the right location. 

The shadow sighed and pointed at a nearby entrance at ground-level. “Take that door.” 

Bristling with annoyance, Dark obeyed, walking through and into a long, nondescript corridor. The inside was no less labyrinthine than the exterior. Following his other self’s instructions—he at least seemed to know where he was going—Dark took turn after turn, climbing upwards into the fortress’s interior. 

When he emerged into a wide, high-ceilinged room, the shadow hissed, “Careful.” 

Dark instinctively backtracked and flattened to the wall outside, peering around the corner to see where the danger was. Four guards stood around a mess hall of some kind, talking quietly. What was more, they were completely oblivious to the evil creatures scurrying around their feet like rats. 

“They’re creatures of shadow,” the other him explained. “They’ve infested this place because of all the dark magic growing here, changing them into nasty little beasts.” 

Dark watched one of them leap onto a table, its glowing yellow eyes searching. “I can’t bring any weapons with me here.” 

“You have magic, don’t you?” the shadow asked sarcastically. 

Expending some of his dwindling magic, Dark summoned fire to dispatch the shadow critters easily. He would need to hurry if he wanted to make it back to Link before his magic ran out and he couldn’t get back. Hopefully, there were no bigger threats crawling around this place. 

As they continued, Dark began to understand what his shadow-self meant by a dark magic infestation. The entire fortress felt...off, somehow. As if a terrible storm raged just outside its walls, threatening to collapse them. Once or twice, he swore he saw the very stone walls shift or shudder, like they couldn’t hold their place. Could dark magic affect the physical reality of this place? 

Different environments behaved certain ways in the Shadow world, he’d noticed. Death Mountain, a deep well of natural magic, appeared almost as a living organism of rock. Whereas the Great Fairy’s fountain was utterly still and lifeless in Shadow. Perhaps, as Impa had called Shadow the element of change, places of pure light magic could not be affected by its forces? 

Dark climbed another narrow stairwell to the topmost floor, alarmed to see the passageway was vanishing behind him, leaving behind an empty void. Shadow reflected the Light World. If Ganondorf’s dark magic attacked the fortress, its reflection reacted. 

“Evil magic erases,” his shadow said, following his train of thought. He gestured at the pitch blackness behind them. “Makes you forget yourself.” 

Disturbed by the idea, and the way his shadow’s eerie red eyes were fixed on his face, Dark quickened his pace. The doorway he needed was just ahead, and it brought no small relief to be back outside. The cold fingers of apprehension slipped off him as the desert sun greeted him. 

“It’s here, I think,” he said, realizing he was just talking to himself and feeling a bit foolish. “Let’s try it.” 

Wordlessly, Dark let the Light World pull him back, glad to see his feet solidly planted on level ground. Up and to the right, Link waved from the window. Dark released his breath. At least he’d made it back. 

“We can do this,” he said, then frowned. He’d been talking to himself far too much lately. 

Link adjusted his position and then leapt from the edge, pinwheeling through the air for a brief second before his outstretched hand caught Dark’s arm and the latter hauled him to safety. They collided and rolled across the roof, pausing to catch their breaths. 

“It worked,” Link panted, turning to help Dark up. 

“Now we escape and find Nabooru. Do you know where we look?” 

“Sheik was supposed to guide me, but he said we needed to pass the ‘desert trials’ first.” 

“Sounds fun. Did he mention what they were?” Link shrugged in response. Dark sighed. 

Link took off his hat, peering inside to check on Navi. “The heat must be bothering her,” he announced. “She’s still pretty weak.” 

Dark peeked at the blue fairy hiding in Link’s hat. Her wings were dimmer than usual. “It’s not the desert,” he grimaced. “It’s this place. When I visited the shadow realm, I could tell there was a lot of dark magic here.” 

“We should leave as soon as we can, then. Who knows what could happen?” 

They agreed to sneak over to the fortress stables, as crossing the treacherous desert would be easier and faster with horses, especially if they were pursued. The number of guards on duty was surprisingly few, and they managed to make it across the valley unseen, winding their way in and out of the fortress. 

Progress was slower as Dark and Link took care to discreetly explore each room, searching for their confiscated weapons and supplies. They found them in another unguarded room but didn’t pause to question their strange luck. 

The stables were empty of Gerudo guards, which was odd, but they pressed on. Epona’s white-striped face poked out of the farthest stall. She nickered when she saw Link, who greeted her with a pat on the neck. 

“When we reach the gate,” Dark whispered, petting the nose of his own mount. “I’ll open it, you watch our backs. I imagine as soon as we leave, they’ll be on us.” 

“It’s weird there’s no one around,” Link remarked, grabbing Epona’s saddle and bridle. 

“Maybe Ganondorf needed more soldiers in Castle Town.” Dark shrugged. “Let’s focus on hurrying.” 

Out from the stables, the expanse of the valley was a golden gauntlet of Gerudo guards, ending in the broad wooden gate to the desert. Link took a readying breath. Once they galloped into the open, any number of guards could come swarming out of the fortress, or rain arrows down on their heads. 

Link prayed their luck would hold a little longer. 

He dug in his heels, urging Epona faster and faster until she sprinted. Dark and his horse were close behind, shield in hand ready to deflect any attack. The guards posted outside jumped into action but could do nothing as Link and Dark blazed past them, kicking up sand. 

Shouts chased them, but they were halfway to the gate, their goal in sight. Epona’s hooves thundered beneath him; his heart hammered in his ears. 

_Thwip. Thwip, Thwip_

Arrows whizzed by. Link ducked, pressed against Epona’s neck to make himself a smaller target. A few projectiles bounced off their shields with metallic clinks. Epona whinnied as Link drew her up short, spinning them around before the gate. Dark jumped off his mount, spraying sand as he landed and ran for the gatehouse. 

Link grabbed the Master Sword’s familiar hilt. A dozen Gerudo fighters were sprinting towards them, spears and swords raised. Link lifted his shield. The gate began to rise, inch by inch. 

The Gerudo were almost there. Epona stamped her hoof. Link inhaled and exhaled slowly. The gate groaned upwards. 

From the corner of his eye, Link saw someone approaching, calmly and resolutely, in contrast of the Gerudo. Link tore his eyes off the guards for a second look. 

It was Sheik. 

Without a care in the world, the Sheikah came to a stop at Epona’s shoulder, facing the oncoming Gerudo at Link’s side. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he said. 

Link stared. “What are you doing!?” 

Sheik’s eyes flicked up to Link’s. “Helping.” 

There was no time to reply, as the Gerudo reached them and Link was caught in the fight. Dark appeared in the gatehouse’s door, defending it from two guards who tried to undo his progress. Sheik moved through the chaos like quicksilver, not even using his weapons but subduing or disarming his opponents before striking them quickly and knocking them unconscious. 

“Don’t hurt them!” Sheik called to Link and Dark. “They’re under a spell!” 

Link would have protested, but he saw the truth in Sheik’s words. The guards’ eyes were dull and sightless. They were acting without thought. He thrust aside the point of spear, using the sword’s hilt and smashing it against the owner’s head. She dropped like a stone, no longer a threat. Dark joined their efforts, catching Link’s eye with a frown but not attempting to use lethal force. 

“It’s working!” Sheik called. 

Their attackers’ numbers had dwindled, but a crowd of Gerudo perched on the roof of the fortress were readying another volley of arrows. Too late, Link saw the arrow screaming towards Sheik. 

“Sheik!” 

It hit him in the side, a simple graze, but enough to do damage. Sheik gasped and fell back, stumbling in the sand. Link charged ahead to defend him, blocking a hit from a Gerudo scimitar. 

“We need to move!” Dark bellowed. “Get on Epona!” 

Link hesitated but did as Dark said. His friend grabbed Sheik under the arms and slung him over Epona’s back. Sheik slumped against Link’s back with a groan. Gerudo reinforcements charged out of the fortress, ready for a renewed assault as the archers reached for more ammunition. 

“Go!” Dark shouted, swinging onto his horse. 

Link turned Epona’s head to the gate and she took off. Link’s head narrowly missed hitting the not fully open gate on the way out. He stayed close to Epona’s neck, silently urging her fast as Sheik’s now limp form bounced against his back. Dark, his face set in a determined scowl, was at his shoulder, snapping the reins of his mount. 

The chaos of battle faded as the desert stretched on. The fortress gate became smaller and smaller until it disappeared completely, swallowed by the horizon. Epona’s pace finally slowed, and the sound of Link’s pounding heart was no longer deafening. 

Link longed to stop and rest, but they could not. His fingers felt frozen to the reins, they were so stiff. Dark’s head was on a swivel, watching for anyone pursuing, making Link anxious. Sheik hadn’t said a word. He suspected he was unconscious. 

“Link.” 

He glanced up at Dark’s voice, then yanked on Epona’s reins in surprise. She snorted irritably. 

Ahead of them was a deep chasm, a rift that split the desert in two. Link felt the breath leave his lungs. It was too far across for Epona to jump, and on either side, it stretched farther than he could see. Across from them were two tall wooden posts with red flags tied to the top. To mark the place? 

“We might be able to go around,” he offered. 

“I think this is the first trial Sheik mentioned,” Dark said. He nodded towards the far side. “There’s a building of some kind there where we can rest.” 

“How can we if we can’t get across?” Link demanded. 

Dark turned to him. “Your hookshot will get us across.” 

Link blinked. “What about the horses? We can’t leave them out here. And what about Sheik?” 

Dark dismounted, reaching to unbuckle the horse’s saddle. He strapped the supplies he carried to his back, turning back to Link’s confused expression. “Sheik needs help for that wound. Unless you’d rather leave him here, which I’m all for,” he added with a wicked grin. 

Link scowled. “Of course not.” 

“Okay, then I’ll carry him across. You can bring the supplies.” Dark held up his hand when Link opened his mouth. “The horses will be fine. I wouldn’t tell you to leave Epona behind if we could help it. We’re not far from the fortress; she’ll find her way back and they’ll take care of her. They did before.” 

Link stroked the mare’s neck. He disliked this plan, but he could see he had little choice. Dark came over to help with Sheik, checking the wound in his side. 

“It won’t kill him, as long as we dress it as soon as possible,” he said. 

Link leaned over to see. The gash across Sheik’s ribs was deep, but not gushing blood. With a sigh, Link turned to Epona, giving her flank a reassuring pat. 

“I’ll come back for you,” he murmured. “I promise.” 

The mare’s chocolate brown eyes, intelligent and gentle, flickered in seeming understanding. Link stepped back, and she took off at a canter in the direction of the fortress, the Dark’s mare close behind her. 

Dark hoisted Sheik onto his back, wrapping his limp arms around his shoulders. “Ready?” 

Link nodded. “I’ll go across first.” 

With the hookshot in hand, he walked over to the chasm’s edge. Taking aim and releasing the trigger, he was satisfied when the speared end embedded itself firmly in one of the wooden poles on the other side. After a tug to test its strength, Link retracted the chain, pulling himself across the wide gap. 

He crashed into the pole ungracefully, standing up to dust himself off. Then, he placed the hookshot on the ground and took a step back. 

On the far side, Dark’s eyes were closed in concentration. If this didn’t work, Link thought sourly, I sent Epona away for nothing. 

A moment later, the hookshot’s shadow stretched underneath it, growing until it enveloped it in magic. Like quicksand, it sucked the hookshot down as it shrunk again. Beside Dark’s boots, the hookshot was seemingly spat back out of the earth. 

Dark picked it up with a grin, giving Link a little wave. Link resisted rolling his eyes as Dark took aim and fired the hookshot, joining him moments later. 

Link reached to help Dark with Sheik, surprised that the Sheikah boy was light enough that he could carry him in his arms easily. Together they trudged the short distance to the small stone house. 

Nighttime was falling fast, and the wind had grown from a whistle to a howl. They staggered inside the small house, shutting out the sound with the rickety door. Link laid Sheik on the floor, using his rucksack for a pillow. 

He removed his hat, relieved to see Navi was faring better, and set it next to Sheik so she could sleep for a while. Dark was busy lighting their lanterns and closing the wooden shutters on the windows. 

The sound of the windstorm was strangely muted inside the cabin, and Link let himself relax. They were safe again for now. But Sheik’s wound concerned him. His earlier anger at his betrayal had dimmed a bit. 

He leaned over Sheik to pull back the fabric of his form-fitting blue tunic, exposing the damage. Sheik stirred but didn’t wake, so Link carefully dabbed it with a rag to clean it and then pressed a clean bandage in place. 

“How is he?” Dark asked over Link’s shoulder. 

“He’ll live, like you said. We’ll need to take his tunic off to dress the wound properly,” Link said. “But--” 

Link’s words faltered when he noticed the strange golden glow emanating from Sheik’s right hand. Confused, Link peeled back the fabric covering the back of Sheik’s hand, revealing something he never thought to see. 

On Sheik’s hand was a golden Triforce, its lower left corner glowing softly. 

“Is that...” Dark sounded equally awed and confused as Link. 

“It’s the symbol of the Royal Family,” Link muttered, frowning at his friend’s sleeping face. “But why does Sheik have it?” 

Sheik’s crimson eyes flew open. Jerking upright, he snatched his hand from Link’s grasp and cradled it to his chest. The three of them stared at each other, hardly breathing. 

“Sheik...” Link started. 

“What are you doing?” Sheik snapped. 

“I was just treating your wound,” Link said, lifting his hands. 

“You were injured during our escape from the fortress,” Dark added. 

Sheik’s wide eyes swept between the two of them, but he said nothing. 

“Sheik,” Link said. “Why do you have the symbol of the Royal Family on your hand? Who are you, really?” 

When he still said nothing, Dark shot him a narrow-eyed glare. “I think you owe us that much. You did betray us and then turn around and help us escape, all in one day.” 

Lowering his gaze, Sheik stared at his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry,” he said to Link. “I thought the Gerudo would help us, and when they attacked us, I had to keep up appearances.” 

“Because you’re working for Ganondorf?” Dark accused. 

Sheik’s shoulders drooped. “Yes,” he sighed. 

“It’s true?” Link asked, frowning. 

Sheik met his eyes. “I’ve been spying on him,” he explained. “Gerudo who were no longer loyal to him have been helping me. After they captured you, I discovered they’d been brainwashed to do his bidding, likely as punishment for betraying him.” Sheik inhaled, wincing at the pain it caused, and continued. “It took some time, but I managed to free some of them. They’ll wake later, and no longer be under the spell...” 

“That doesn’t explain who you are,” Link interrupted. He was glad his friend hadn’t betrayed him completely, but Sheik was still hiding something. 

His gaze locked with Link’s, full of some emotion Link couldn’t place. “You’re right,” he said. “I hope you’ll forgive me.” 

Before Link could ask what he meant, Sheik got to his feet unsteadily, raising his right fist in front of his face. Blinding light shone from the mark on Sheik’s hand, filling the entire room. Link and Dark shielded their eyes as the light seared them. A ringing sounded in Link’s ears, growing louder and louder until it stopped abruptly, fading with the light. 

Opening his eyes, Link stared in disbelief at the spot where Sheik had been standing and was no more. In his place was someone Link never expected. 

“Zelda,” he breathed.


	47. Oasis

Link thought he must be dreaming. 

Either that or the Princess of Hyrule really stood there in front of him. 

They stared at each other, neither having the words, or perhaps the courage, to speak first. She looked different, Link thought. Her face had lost its girlishness, but her eyes were the same. Her hair was longer, now that she’d taken off the head wrappings Sheik had always worn. 

“Link,” she said hesitantly, her expression anxious. Her voice was changed, too. “I know you must be angry with me...” 

“Angry?” Link repeated, and she faltered, dark blonde eyebrows arching. Impulsively, Link took two steps forward and threw his arms around her, holding her tight. “I’m overjoyed to see you!” 

His chin bumped awkwardly against the top of her head, which was strange. When they were kids she’d been a little taller than him. Part of him wanted to release her, to study her grown-up face and re-memorize her features. The other part was reluctant to let her go now. She was tense as a board in their embrace, but after a second she lifted her captive arms to slide them around his back and return his hug. 

Encouraged, Link said, “I’m so glad you’re okay.” Her long hair was everywhere. But it smelled nice. 

“Let her breathe, Link.” Dark’s hand landed on his shoulder. 

Link loosened his grip and Zelda took a half-step back, smoothing a hand over her ruffled hair. Her head was down and her face was a bit flushed as if she were embarrassed. She twisted her hair into a column and pushed it back over her shoulder. 

“Are you really Princess Zelda?” Dark asked, still shocked at this latest development. 

“Of course she is!” Link said at the same time Zelda answered, “Yes.” 

She lifted her head and met Link’s gaze. “I’m sorry for deceiving you all this time. I meant to reveal myself eventually, but it was too dangerous...” 

Link lifted his hands and stopped short of giving her another hug. Best not to rush it, he reminded himself. It’s been seven years for her, not a few months. 

“I understand,” he said. “I’m just happy you’re okay. I’ve been looking for you ever since...well, since I woke up at the Temple of Time.” 

Relief flashed across her face and she smiled for the first time. Seeing made Link’s stomach do a somersault, which was weird. 

She inclined her head, and Link felt the absurd urge to smell her hair again. “Thank you.” 

“So, you’ve been hiding from Ganondorf in plain sight all this time,” Dark mused, chuckling. “And spying on him to boot. Clever.” 

Zelda shrugged. “It seemed a more productive way to help my people,” she explained. “Impa was against the plan from the start, but Sheik has been a useful disguise for me these past several years.” 

A pang of guilt suddenly seized Link as he thought of the last seven years. Zelda had been doing her part to resist Ganondorf on her own. And she’d been helping Link on his quest these past months. His quest to rid Hyrule of Ganondorf, when he was the cause of the kingdom’s plight. 

He turned to Zelda. “I’m sorry,” he told her. Confusion furrowed her brow. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you all this time.” 

“Oh, Link,” her features softened. “I am the one who should be sorry. I asked you to go to the Temple of Time and open the Door--” 

“Which allowed Ganondorf to steal the Triforce,” Link cut in bitterly. “It’s my fault he took over Hyrule. Everything he’s done.” 

Zelda took his left hand between hers. “Link, listen to me,” she urged. “Ganondorf’s evil is his own doing, not yours. You could not have known what would happen. You were doing as I asked of you.” 

Link tried to give her a reassuring smile, not entirely assuaged of his guilty feelings. He squeezed her fingers and her smile returned, 

Dark cleared his throat. “I hate to interrupt this...reunion,” he said, “But, er...Zelda...you’re bleeding.” 

She looked down at her side and gasped at the fresh blood seeping through the dark blue fabric. Dark swooped over and placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder. She lowered herself to the ground and leaned against the wall while Dark and Link knelt in front of her, hovering. 

“I have something that may work,” Dark muttered, fumbling with his shirt collar. He pulled the wooden vial of medicinal herbs from his neck, unstoppering the top and pouring its content into his palm. 

Zelda examined them with a critical eye, telling him which herbs would be useful. Surprised at her knowledge of the healing arts, Dark nonetheless retrieved a bowl, spoon and flagon of water from their supplies. He heated the water with a bit of magic and tossed the herbs in to begin making a poultice. 

Zelda tilted onto her side, exposing the wound. She glanced at Link, “It’s not as bad as it looks.” 

Link frowned. “I didn’t warn you in time. I was too busy wondering whether or not to trust you.” His mouth twisted wryly. 

Her lips lifted in a quick smile. “Understandable, given the circumstances. I am sorry for that, by the way.” 

He grinned back. “Understandable, given the circumstances.” 

Dark coughed. Link looked back at him, but his friend was dutifully mixing. When the poultice was ready, Link picked up the bowl and gingerly patted it into the gash. Zelda winced but otherwise held steady while he finished. 

She started to sit up, her face turning pink again. “I need to...um.” 

Dark grabbed Link’s shoulder roughly. “Turn around,” he commanded. Confused, Link let Dark drag him upright and face him towards the door. “Close your eyes,” Dark hissed. 

Link did as asked, crossing his arms over his chest when Dark released him. Zelda fumbled with the medicine behind them. Clothing rustled. She gasped. Link instinctively moved to check on her. Dark punched him hard in the arm. 

“Ouch!” 

“I said turn around!” 

Zelda sighed. “I’m finished,” she called. 

Link glared balefully at Dark, who shook his head. Zelda still wore Sheik’s blue outfit, but her ribs had been wrapped in fresh bandages underneath the tear. The head wrappings she’d draped across her neck like a cowl, and her long blonde hair had been tied into a neat bun at the base of her neck. 

“All set,” she said with a small smile. “And now’s the time when I thank you, again, for helping me.” 

Dark shrugged. “Didn’t have much choice. You’re our guide in this sand-covered hell.” 

Zelda glanced at him with a frown. “Nonetheless, you have my gratitude. The first trial obviously posed no problems.” 

Link shook his head. “We made it across the chasm, but we won’t be able to tackle the next one until the storm passes.” 

As if to punctuate his point, the howling wind outside rattled the wooden shutters of the little house ominously. 

Dark rubbed his chin. “We can wait it out a bit. Maybe there’s something in here we can use to treat Link’s injuries, as well.” He crouched to rifle through the small supply of herbs. “It’s almost nightfall, anyhow. I don’t particularly relish spending another night out there, do you?” 

Zelda crossed to the east window and peeked out. “We can stay here the night,” she agreed. “The next trial is best done during the day.” 

“What is the next trial?” Link asked, curious. 

“The desert guide,” she explained. “He will lead us to the Colossus, where Nabooru should be waiting.” 

“You’ve made this trip before?” Dark asked her. 

“Once. I had Nabooru with me, however.” 

“We made it this far,” Link said. “We’ll figure it out.” 

“No use worrying about it now,” Dark agreed. “Come here and drink some red potion. I’ll make a fire, we can get some rest and set out in the morning.” 

They slept in shifts throughout the evening and the night. Thankfully, the desert’s visions didn’t reach them in the stone house, and the night stayed quiet. The little supplies and medicine they had left were used sparingly, but luckily it was enough. 

When the sun rose, painting the dunes crimson-gold, they donned their cloaks and followed Zelda through the wasteland, using the Gerudo flag poles for guidance. The wind was calmer, but the sun hotter. Though Navi had recovered from the exposure to dark magic, she spent the trek hiding in Link’s hat. 

Near midday they reached the end of the Gerudos’ trail of flag poles, ending in a stone monument, half-hidden in the shifting sands. 

“It’s here,” Zelda said. “If you stand on the pedestal, it should appear.” 

Stepping onto the circular platform, Link stood before a stone slab with an inscription written in a language he couldn’t read. He looked around and waited, but nothing happened. There was nothing but sand and more sand. 

“Did we do something wrong?” 

Zelda frowned, bending to read the inscription. “It should work,” she grumbled. “The guide appeared to Nabooru straight away.” 

“Maybe it only works for Gerudo,” Dark suggested, glancing at the writing. “That’s Gerudo writing, isn’t it?” 

Zelda glanced up, surprised. “You can read it?” 

Dark faltered. “Neither of you can?” 

“It’s not the Gerudo language,” Zelda said slowly, watching Dark with curiosity. “It’s ancient Sheikah.” 

Dark looked back at the writing, ill at ease. Link told Zelda of Impa’s claims that he was gifted with Shadow, and perhaps that was the reason why he could read the ancient language. Zelda didn’t seem convinced; neither was Dark. 

“Whatever the reason,” Dark interrupted before they could spin more theories about him, “I can read it, and it says the person with an eye of truth can see the path. Or something like that,” he added. 

Link dropped his rucksack to the ground and rummaged through it for a moment. “Thank the goddesses I still have it!” he said, pulling what appeared to be a handheld mirror from the pack. 

“You still have it!” Zelda exclaimed. 

Link grinned and held it out to Dark, who took the lens in his left hand. The transparent eye in the centre was creepy. He lifted the eye to his own, peering through its violet glass at the desert. 

He nearly dropped it. Floating a few feet away was a poe spirit, larger than any he’d ever seen. It watched him with glowing amber eyes, half-turned towards the horizon, waiting for him to follow. 

The poe wasn’t the only spectre Dark saw. Beside him, connected to the real shadow he cast on the ground, was his eerie doppelganger. 

“You can see me, huh?” he asked. When Dark didn’t answer, too disturbed to speak, he added, “They can’t hear me. Or see me.” He grinned broadly, revealing teeth that weren’t quite human, but not firmly beastlike. “It’s just us.” 

“Great,” Dark said under his breath. 

“What do you see?” Link piped up. 

“A poe,” he replied. He lowered the lens, surprised to see the spirit lingered, now visible to the entire group. 

“That’s him,” Zelda confirmed. “We can follow him now.” 

Returning the Sheikah object to Link, Dark retrieved his things and hurried after the other two, his boots sinking in the sand. As they walked, the poe floated along, occasionally pausing to watch their progress. 

As the minutes stretched into hours, the wind resumed its tirade. Visibility was poor, but the poe’s eyes glowed like embers. Throughout the trek, Dark could see his shadow-self from the corner of his eye, a dark mass now without the benefit of the Eye of Truth. 

“I think I need a name,” the shadow said to Dark. 

“You can still talk in this world?” 

“As much as you can, which isn’t saying much.” 

“Are all your kind this annoying?” 

“We shadows pride ourselves on our wit. I think you can call me ‘Kai’. That’s a good name, don’t you think?” 

“Sure,” Dark grumbled. 

“Up ahead!” Zelda’s voice called through the wind’s howl. 

Kai melted back into Dark’s shadow, which was a blessing. The poe had stopped next to another pair of Gerudo flag poles, cackling wickedly before vanishing. Zelda and Link paused to catch their breath and Dark quickened his pace to catch up. 

Lifting a hand, Zelda pointed ahead of them. Link and Dark followed her gaze, glimpsing the Colossus for the first time. 

The landscape descended into a vast cliff which scribbled across the valley, hiding the Colossus’s massive stone guardian from sight. She gazed out over the sand, tucked against the rocks. Here and there the valley was dotted with mesas, ranging from boulder-sized to taller than a castle tower. Palm trees were scattered in the west corner, protected from the wind. 

“There is an oasis there,” Zelda said. “Nabooru told me it is protected by a great fairy, which is good as we may need her help.” 

Link glanced at Zelda’s bandaged side. She’d done remarkably well trudging through heat and dust and wind, thanks in part to the quick effects of red potion. But they were running low and needed to conserve it. 

“We should stop and check your wound,” Link said, his brow furrowed with concern. 

“I’ll be fine,” she waved him off, securing her cloak over her head. “We can stop again when we reach the oasis.” 

She took off again, her steps sure. Link gazed after her, his face still drawn with worry. Dark stepped up beside him, shaking his head. 

“Could you pick a woman less available?” he muttered. 

Link’s head turned, but his attention remained on her. “What?” 

“Nothing. Let’s go.” 

Within the hour, they’d stopped at the small oasis, a brief refuge from the harsh wasteland. Link kneeled beside Zelda at the water’s edge, helping to refill their supply. They talked quietly to each other, exchanging smiles. Dark wandered to the opposite side, pretending he found palm fronds fascinating. 

He sat down and leaned against the nearest tree. Happy to be off his feet, he relaxed and glanced around idly. The statue of the Colossus, her face in profile, drew his attention. 

Dark found the desert calming—at least during the day. The nightmares the wasteland inflicted on him at night he could live without. But here, in this secluded valley, he enjoyed the stillness. For a moment he could simply sit, eyes closed, and enjoy the quiet, without his worries bouncing around in his head like wrecking balls. 

The mental carnage was still there when he opened them. Resisting the dramatic sigh rising in his throat, Dark focused on the ripples of water rolling across the oasis. This latest discovery that he could read the ancient Sheikah language could be a side effect of his affinity for the tribe’s favoured element. Perhaps it was due to his father’s heritage. 

Either way, it contributed to his alien-ness. His differences. The things that made him an outsider. He glanced up at Link when Zelda laughed lightly. At least his brother had inherited their mother’s looks. He looked the part of a full blood Hylian, and wasn’t shunned by the prejudiced. In fact, everyone he met seemed to love him. 

Dark scowled, disliking the feelings of his jealousy. It was a good thing that Link had something on his side, considering the monumental task ahead of him. But he couldn’t help but envy them as he watched them talk together, smiling giddily. 

If Dark had been a good man, he would have stayed with Sienna in the house on Greywood Road. Made a home with her. Maybe raised a family. He would have suffered the occasional side-eyed stare or snide remark. 

He could have kept her out of captivity. Out of reach of the tyrant who’d already ruined his life once. 

Dark rested his elbows on his knees, staring sullenly back in the water. It was stupid to be sitting here, doing nothing. It was making him twitchy and restless. Had he means, he would storm Ganondorf’s castle right now, he thought. It was past time to put an end to all this. 

****** 

Link found himself studying Zelda’s features again as she capped the last of their water bags. Her chin was a little pointier, the nose a bit longer, the cheekbones flared out, giving her face more character. When they were children she’d been very pretty, as princesses likely were, Link had thought at the time. She still was—very pretty, that is—but it was strange seeing her familiar features on a grown-up's face. 

She’d always reminded him of Saria in that she had bright, kind eyes. The kindness was still there, but there was something else too. Sadness. A sharpness, too. 

Catching him looking at her, Zelda reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind a pointed ear, suddenly absorbed by their supplies. 

“What is it?” she asked, her cheeks pink from the desert’s heat. A small smile crept onto her face. He recognized the slight tilt to her mouth when she did, and grinned. 

“I was just thinking that you haven’t changed.” 

Her eyes widened, bright pools of blue. “I...I’m glad you think so,” she said quickly. “But I have to disagree...” 

Link reached to take the forgotten water flagon from her hands, bending to store it in his rucksack. “Why?” 

She shook her head, her gaze on the ground. “All these years have changed me,” she said, that sliver of sadness clouding her eyes. “It’s been hard, looking back over my shoulder, hiding who I am...being apart from those I love.” She cleared her throat, kneeling next to him to organize the contents of the rucksack. “I almost envy you, being away from it all this time, sleeping in the Chamber of Sages...” 

His heart clenched. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “When I came back, it was as if the world had gone on without me.” Her head jerked up at his words. “My friends in the forest didn’t recognize me,” Link continued, “And because I left, look what happened. They were all in danger, and I abandoned them." 

Zelda tentatively laid her palm across his, squeezing his fingers gently. “You didn’t abandon them, Link,” she told him softly. “You didn’t mean to leave...” she paused, pressing back the tears that pricked behind her eyes. “I wish I could undo it all. If I had known, I never would have asked you to open the door and take the Master Sword.” 

Link turned his hand and interlaced their fingers. Zelda lifted her blurry eyes to meet his. “You didn’t know what would happen,” he replied. He tried to force a smile. “Clearly, you knew something I didn’t, since the Master Sword recognized me as the Hero of Time.” 

She managed a soft laugh. “I’m not sure if I knew,” she furrowed her brow, trying to explain. She smiled. “I knew you were special. I suppose I thought if you had the sword, you could defeat Ganondorf then and there.” 

“If only,” Link said, shaking his head. “I guess ten-year-olds don’t save the world.” 

Zelda laughed again, and he watched her, warmed by the temporary absence of her sadness. Hands still joined; her smiling face was close to his. Her gaze was on him, mapping his features. 

“You haven’t changed either,” she murmured, lifting her free hand. Her fingertips touched his cheek. “You’re just as I remember.” 

For a second, Link forgot where they were. The sound of the wind, the heat of the sun disappeared. His heart hammered loudly in his ears, beating oddly slowly, as if time decided to move at a quieter pace. His gaze was locked on hers; he could see the striations of turquoise in their cerulean depths. Was he breathing too fast? 

“Hey.” 

Link flung himself backwards as if he’d been hit with an electric shock. Zelda’s hand ripped from his grip and he landed in the sand, his heartbeat sprinting. 

“Huh? What?” 

Dark stood next to the spot he’d just occupied, grimacing in apology. “Sorry, but I thought you should know there’s something heading this way.” 

Zelda stood up and brushed the sand from her clothes, her face flaming red. “Where?” she asked Dark briskly, glancing where he pointed. Her face instantly paled. “Leevers,” she whispered. 

Link scrambled to his feet. “What is that?” 

A mass of yellowed spikes was charging through the sand as if it were water, headed straight for the oasis. Navi shook inside Link’s hat, sensing the oncoming danger. Link took off his hat and she flew out, her wings glowing brightly. 

“They’re leevers,” Navi explained. “Underneath those spikes are their real bodies—they're enormous! And they have seven rows of razor-sharp teeth—” 

“Trust me, you don’t want to wait until they get close enough to strike,” Zelda said urgently, packing up the rest of their things. “We can’t fight that many at once, they’ll overwhelm us.” 

“The temple isn’t far,” Dark said, grabbing his own gear. “Can we outrun them?” 

The horde was almost upon them, churning up the sand as they came. A few metres from the oasis shores, they stopped short, halted by an invisible barrier. 

“Guess not,” Dark growled. 

“They can’t get closer,” Zelda explained. “This area is protected, but they’ll be on us the moment we leave.” 

Now that they were up close, the group could see the tunnels of teeth inside the leevers’ spiked heads, gnashing and biting in anticipation. As they swarmed, they began to rise out of the sand, feigning strikes, revealing bloated, green, tough-skinned bodies. As one or two would sink back into the ground, three more would take their place. 

“What can we do?” Link asked, the three of them forming a protective triangle. 

“We’ll have to use magic,” Zelda said. “If I can create a barrier like the one protecting the oasis, we should be able to make it to the Colossus.” 

Standing slightly behind Link and Dark, she closed her eyes to focus, lifting both hands in front of her. Both men felt the waves of magical power rolling off her as she summoned her gift and directed it with ease. Zelda raised her hands above her head as an orb of blue light formed between her fingers. She slammed her fists back down against the ground, and the magic spread out to envelop the three of them, rising to form a crystalline shield around them. 

“Go!” she shouted. 

Dark and Link jumped to action, drawing their swords and shields out of reflex. They charged the line of leevers, and the monsters reared out of the sand, hungry jaws snapping. They bounced off Zelda’s magical barrier, harmless. Keeping close ranks, the three of them ran across the uneven terrain. The leevers gave chase, hissing and snapping. 

The temple steps were a few yards away. The magic began to pulse rhythmically, the shield fading to a lighter blue. 

“Hurry!” Zelda panted, one hand fisted in the backs of each of their tunics, both pushing and clutching. 

Dark’s boots touched the temple’s stone steps first. The other two were right behind him, plowing into him as the shield breathed its last. The three of them tumbled into a heap before the temple’s entrance. 

Link opened his eyes, relieved to see their pursuers were unable to climb onto the solid rock platform. Their hunt foiled, they burrowed back into the sand. 

“Get off me,” Dark grunted. 

“Sorry.” 

Link had landed on Dark’s back, with Zelda lying sideways across him. He waited for her to get back on her feet before rolling off Dark’s prone form. Rising onto his hands and knees, Dark groaned and wiped the back of his hand over his face. 

“Am I still pretty?” he asked Link, working his jaw back and forth. “I think I landed on my face.” 

Zelda snorted with laughter. Link pretended to inspect Dark for blemishes. 

“I think you’ll be fine.” 

“Thank Farore for that.” 

The inside of the temple was cool; a welcome relief. No torches were lit, so they paused to let their eyes adjust to the dimness. Zelda, having been there before, located the torches on the walls and brought them back to life. 

Before them was a shallow staircase, cracked with age but refusing to give way. Without trepidation, Zelda walked up, shining a torch to illuminate the darker corners. Two alcoves branched off from the main room, both impassable—to the right, a gigantic grey stone concealed the path, and the left had been completely caved in. 

Zelda frowned. “This must have happened recently,” she said, studying the chunk of rock. “I was here with Nabooru weeks ago, and we went through...” 

“Was she supposed to meet you here?” Link asked. 

“Yes.” Her features were drawn in concern. “If she is still here, she may be trapped within the temple. I asked her second-in-command back at the fortress, and she told me Nabooru hadn’t returned yet.” 

“What was she doing here?” Dark questioned. “This place feels...almost abandoned.” 

“It’s not often visited,” Zelda said. “Ganondorf was using it as hideout for a time, and Nabooru was keeping track of his plans. But some time ago, he discovered she was working against him, and had her branded a traitor. Luckily, many of the Gerudo are more loyal to Nabooru, and hid her here...” she drifted off, looking thoughtful. “Wait!” 

Without explanation, she hurried back down the staircase to the lower section of the room. Beside the steps were two statues of giant snakes, reared as if to strike. On their bellies, someone long ago had etched short passages into the rock. 

“It’s difficult to read,” she said as the men joined her. “But Nabooru translate the poems for me.” 

“Poems?” Dark raised a brow. 

“The Gerudo ancestors built this temple in honour of the goddess Nayru,” she explained. “There are many places on these walls where they carved poems, stories and histories of their people. They had a strong connection to the Spirit element, and many of the stories reflect that.” 

She traced her fingertip over the faded words. “These poems talk of the various stages of mortal life, as well as its end. There were some strange passages, though, that Nabooru didn’t know the meaning of.” Locating the line she sought, she read, “Travel through the river of time. Return here with the spirit of a child to discover the ancient power of silver.” 

Dark crossed his arms, furrowing his brow. “That makes no sense.” 

“Not at first,” Zelda agreed. “But I believe it refers to the Master Sword.” 

All eyes turned to Link. He shrugged helplessly. “What? I don’t know any more than you do.” 

“Link,” she said, “The Master Sword is more than a weapon to banish evil. It protects the spirit of the Hero. It allowed your spirit to rest in the Sacred Realm, unharmed, for seven years.” She paused for breath, excitement plain on her face. “The sword is also a vessel, through which it is written that the Hero can _move back and forth through Time._” 

Dark leaned aside to examine the hilt of the Master Sword more closely. “Cool,” he remarked. 

“How do you know all this?” Link asked, both awed and impressed by her extensive knowledge. 

Zelda flushed. “I’ve read much about the ancient legends of the Hero,” she replied, a bit sheepishly. “The castle had countless books, and I had many hours with little to do. This temple also has a large library, and Nabooru and Sheik spent some time here researching more about the Sages and Ganondorf.” 

“So if he travels back in time to when he was a child again, he can come back here and find this ‘power of silver’,” Dark cut in. “And then what?” 

“Nabooru believed it was a special treasure of the Gerudo. She thought it might help in the fight against Ganondorf, but she was unable to find it, even after scouring this place top to bottom.” 

When they turned expectantly to Link again, he held up his hands. “I’m all for finding something to help me beat Ganondorf, but how am I supposed to use the sword to travel back in time?” 

Zelda opened her hand. “Do you still have the Ocarina I gave you?” 

Link pulled it from its pocket on his belt and placed it in her palm. “Of course.” 

“I will teach you two melodies. The first will take you back to the Temple of Time, and the second will bring you here to the Spirit Temple so you won’t have to cross the desert.” 

Link nodded. “Sounds easy enough,” he replied with false confidence to hide his nerves. 

“When you get back to Castle Town, place the sword back in its pedestal, and think only of the moment you first drew it. The Master Sword will do the rest.” 

Link repacked his belongings for the journey, taking only what he would need. His hookshot, bow and Hylian shield he left with Dark, as he wouldn’t be able to use them properly once he was a kid again. 

Dark and Zelda would camp within the shelter of the temple while he was gone, which he hoped would be no longer than a day. Despite their reassurances, Link felt trepidation fluttering in his ribcage. 

When he was ready, Zelda played a short, light and airy melody on the small lyre Sheik had always carried, demonstrating it for Link. Once memorized, she next strummed the mournful, bittersweet requiem that would take him back to the desert. 

With the Master Sword on his back and the Ocarina in his hands, Link said his goodbyes to the others, first grabbing Dark in a quick, brotherly embrace. 

“Good luck,” Dark said in his ear. “Don’t let Navi drive you insane.” 

“Hey!” 

Chuckling, Link released Dark and turned to Zelda, giving her a hug. “I’ll be back soon,” he promised. 

She smiled back as they drew apart. “I’ll wait for you.” 

Link lifted the small instrument to his lips, playing the Prelude of Light as she had instructed. Responding to the notes, a halo of warm light flowed from the Ocarina and surrounded him. He was weightless for a moment, blind until the light receded, and his feet touched solid ground. 

The sound of his breaths echoed in the vast chamber of the Temple of Time. It was unchanged from the last time he’d been there, so many months before, as the newly awakened Hero of Time. 

Twisting to look over his shoulder, Link saw the ebony dais, the three Spiritual Stones glinting softly in their places upon it. Beyond that, the door to the Master Sword’s chamber was still open. 

Inhaling a long breath, Link stepped off the platform bearing the symbol of Light. His footsteps echoed as he approached the secondary room, breaking the serene stillness. Outside the high up windows, night was falling, slanting orange light down onto the pedestal. 

Link stopped just before it, Navi pausing a moment later to hover at his right shoulder. He looked down at the waiting pedestal; the Master Sword hummed with life at his back, as if eager to fulfill its purpose. 

His fingers wrapped around the blade’s hilt, but he hesitated to pull it free from its sheath. Once he returned the sword, he would be back in his own time, his own place. A child again. 

When Link first awakened in the Chamber of Sages, he’d been a stranger to himself. His body felt foreign to him, and the task appointed him vague and far off, something to be dealt with later. Over the months, he’d been surprised and pleased to find he’d grown stronger, faster, better equipped to be the Hero of legend. 

In his heart, though, was a ten-year-old boy full of doubt, uncertainty and fear. His mission to awaken the Sages was nearly done, and the moment of destiny would be thrust upon him whether he thought himself ready or not. 

Ever since hearing Zelda’s words at the oasis, of the how the seven years of war and hardship had changed her, Link had tried to identify the emotion that churned inside him. Sympathy, perhaps some recognition. 

Dissonance. There were two Links now—the young boy, optimistically setting off on a journey to save the world, believing in the power of good to smite evil. And then the adult Link, suddenly thrown into the role of the Hero, the hopes of all the peoples of Hyrule carried with him. 

He’d wanted to let go of his younger self. Thought it was necessary in order to truly become the Hero of Time. He couldn’t fully erase him, the boy without a fairy. 

Link drew the Master Sword free, holding the blade point-down in front of him. Were heroes allowed to be scared? 

With a cry, Link drove the Master Sword into its pedestal.


	48. Through the River of Time

Night descended soon after Link’s departure, leaving the desert a still, grey landscape. The ceiling of stars though, was a beautiful sight. 

Dark had never seen so many before, bright enough with the light of the moon that he didn’t need a lantern when he stepped outside the temple. He didn’t venture far, knowing the leevers were lurking somewhere in the muted sand dunes, but it was nice to sit and stare at the light-speckled canopy for a while. 

He and Zelda set up camp in silence, building a fire just inside the entrance where the smoke could escape. Without the intense sun, the desert was chilly at night, and the flames chased away the worst of it. They ate a simple dinner of dried, salted meat and fruit, not bothering to make much conversation. 

Dark suspected that she would prefer not to be alone with him, so when she started packing up their food and reorganizing their supplies, he busied himself with tracing random images in the loose sand on the floor with his fingers. 

He tilted his head to study a doodle when he heard her bite off a gasp and reach for her side. 

“I should have a look at your side,” he said, dusting off his hands. 

He stood up and walked to her side of the fire, giving her what he hoped was a stern look when she hesitated. 

She shifted, peeling back the layers of her clothing so he could see the bandages. Dark carefully lifted the bandage to inspect the wound, trying not to pull on the tender skin. He was glad to see it was healing well after being treated with Sienna’s medicines. Zelda remained still, but she didn’t turn her head to inspect it herself, and wouldn’t meet his eyes. Deciding to address the awkwardness head-on, Dark tucked the bandage back into place and cleared his throat. 

“I owe you an apology.” He scooted back to his side of the fire, giving her space. She looked up at that, frowning. “For treating you like the enemy,” he elaborated. 

She faced him, imitating his cross-legged posture. “You had every reason to suspect me,” she murmured. “You were trying to protect Link, and I can’t fault you for that.” 

As curious as he was about her apparent friendship with Link, he pushed his questions aside. “Truce?” he offered, extending a hand. “Now that we both know we’re on the same side.” 

She clasped his hand briefly with a grateful smile. They fall back into silence for a few moments before she spoke again. 

“I am curious,” she began, and Dark’s spine stiffened in apprehension. “How you knew I was supposedly working for Ganondorf.” 

Relaxing somewhat, Dark explained his visit to see Sienna in the castle dungeons and her warning about Sheik. 

Her eyes glinted with satisfaction. “As I thought,” she said, her mouth twisting. Her gaze softened with sympathy. “I am sorry I wasn’t able to help her.” 

Dark shrugged. “It’s my fault she’s stuck there. There’s nothing you could have done without revealing yourself to Ganondorf.” 

Zelda nodded absently, the firelight drawing her absorbed attention as she slipped into her thoughts. Talking about Sienna made his chest feel tight with emotions he didn’t want to talk about. 

“Would you like some tea?” he asked, already rising to grab what he needed from their packs. She nodded absently, as he prepared the small kettle, his thoughts on Sienna. 

“I’m fascinated by your abilities,” she said, shaking him from his guilt. “I’ve read about the Sheikah and their abilities, but I’ve never met anyone other than her who could use them.” 

Dark grunted. “That’s probably a good thing. I’d hate to think what someone like Ganondorf could do with this kind of power.” 

“I suppose you’re right.” 

He placed the kettle on the flattest chunk of stone he could pry from the temple floor and set it close to the heat of the flames. 

“Have you read much about the Sheikah?” he ventured, hoping she could tell him more about his strange abilities. 

“To tell you the truth, there aren’t many books written by or about them, even in the Castle library.” 

He internally sighed in disappointment, but she started talking again. 

“I know some of the rumours about the Sheikah are...frightening,” she said. “But I’ve known Impa all my life, and she is not at all like people fear. People are just fearful of what they don’t understand.” 

Her attempts to reassure him only half-worked, but he tried to smile back at her anyways. “Not understanding is the problem for me,” he agreed. “Even Impa couldn’t tell me much. She taught me about Shadow, but to be honest with you it scares the hell out of me. With everything that’s happened and what I’ve done,” he shook his head, searching for the source of his anxiety. “I barely recognize myself anymore.” 

Her sympathy was clear as she scooted a bit closer, taking the kettle from its rock and pouring two cups of tea. She passed him one and said, “I know that feeling well. These past years, pretending to be someone else, I feel I don’t know myself anymore. Not the real me.” 

“At Sheik was just a disguise,” Dark replied bitterly. “A way to hide. Being apparently part-Sheikah isn’t so bad on its own, but the things I’ve done, what’s been...done to me.” 

Zelda tentatively placed a hand on his arm. “Impa told me about your curse,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry for what Alatar has done, I know what he’s capable of--” 

Dark shrugged off her touch. “You shouldn’t feel sorry for me. I’ve put Sienna in danger, she was captured because Ganondorf is after me.” 

“That isn’t your fault.” 

Dark tipped the cup of tea against his lips without saying anything. Zelda blew out a breath. 

“If I could go back in time and fix things, I would,” Dark muttered. Zelda’s eyes widened. “Like Link is doing—if I could do that, I would make sure Sienna was safe, and then I would go to Ganondorf and kill him before he could do all this.” 

It was a long moment before Zelda answered. “But you’re helping Link...and you’ll help him defeat Ganondorf and you’ll free Sienna. All the rest won’t matter.” 

Dark didn’t bother telling her otherwise. He wasn’t Link—he didn’t have the power to go back and change things to how they should be. But it did matter. Because the man who’d killed his parents still lived, Sienna was still in danger, and Dark was still cursed. 

As if to taunt him, the flicker of the flames morphed themselves into a vision of Kai, his shadow, eyes glowing like embers. There was a stain on his heart, growing ever darker and deeper, impossible to wash out. 

“Dark?” 

Her voice pulled him from his thoughts, her tone suggesting she’d tried unsuccessfully a few times. He looked up. 

“What is it?” 

She chewed her lip. “I want to ask you something. I’m not sure how to ask it, or how you’ll react.” 

He shrugged. “Won’t know until you try.” 

Nodding, she took a slow breath. Her eyes locked to his across the barrier of flames. “Who is Link to you?” 

**~oOo~**

Inside the Temple of Time, it was cool and empty. It was strangely quiet, though he knew just outside the battle for Hyrule was coming to a sudden end. 

Ganondorf and his army of darkness had won, Zelda had fled, and the King of Hyrule was dead. 

Link, his ear pressed to the heavy wooden doors, could hear the chaos of battle outside. The high windows in the temple walls flickered with an orange glow as Castle Town burned to rubble. 

Link stepped back from the door. He’d truly traveled back in time. 

The Master Sword had brought him back to the moment he’d left, as if he hadn’t departed from this point in time in the first place. 

He bent to sit on the edge of the raised pedestal bearing the symbol of Light, taking a deep breath. A quick inventory showed he still held the Ocarina, as well as his weapons, Kokiri sword and shield. Navi hovered above his head, shaking off the discombobulating effects of time travel. 

Being in his old body felt foreign now, which startled him. Getting accustomed to his adult body was strange enough, but he’d grown used to being taller and faster and stronger. Now, as a boy again, it should have been familiar. 

A wave of sadness washed over Link, but he forced the feeling aside. There was no time to dwell on it. He may have been back in his old body, but inside was the still the spirit of the Hero of Time, and he had a job to do. Standing up, Link faced the twin doors and reached for the Ocarina. 

There was nothing to be done for Castle Town, he knew. What can a child do in the middle of a battle? So, he took the Ocarina and lifted it to his lips, playing the notes Zelda taught him. 

The sombre, hypnotic song wrapped around him, filling his ears as the familiar haloes of light grew and blinded him. The music and light faded, and Link suppressed a shiver. Back in the desert, the night’s chill pierced straight through him. 

He stood on a similar platform to the one he’d just left, though this one bore the mark of Spirit. Several yards away, the statue of the Colossus stared down the sand with her unwavering gaze. Link took another slow breath. It wasn’t far to the temple, and then he could grab the prize of silver and be gone. 

Wary of leevers hiding beneath his boots, Link sprinted the short distance to the temple steps, mildly frustrated that his smaller body and shorter legs couldn’t close the gap as quickly as before. 

Grabbing his lantern and lighting it, Link ventured through the dark entrance of the temple, unsure what to expect. 

The lit torches inside put Link on alert, his suspicions confirmed when Navi said she sensed the presence of someone else from inside his hat. As stealthily as he could, Link climbed the steps to the upper level, dismayed to see the enormous grey block still barring the right passageway. To the left, someone in a cloak crouched inside an alcove, examining the corner of the wall. 

Link’s hand found his sword and pointed it at the stranger. The Kokiri sword was less intimidating than the Master Sword, but it would have to do. The light from Link’s lantern fell across the person’s back, and they started, snapping upwards and spinning to face him. 

“Who are you!?” she demanded. 

It was a Gerudo woman, with the telltale crimson hair and bronze complexion. Her eyes were sharp as topaz gemstones in a fiercely beautiful face, now grimacing in suspicion. Before Link could blink, his child’s sword had been batted away with a flick of her scimitar, which she held beneath his chin. 

“You’re just a kid,” she said with a mixture of surprise and disdain, lowering her weapon a few inches. “What are you doing here? And how did you cross the desert by yourself?” 

Link raised his hands defensively. “You don’t want to mess with me,” he warned, hoping his now-boyish appearance didn’t undercut his tough tone. 

She snickered. “You’ve got guts, kid. Traversing the desert by yourself, and standing up to me? Are you sure you’re not Gerudo?” 

“I...uh...” 

“Nevermind.” She shook her head, tossing her long ponytail aside. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” 

“My name is Link. I’m—” 

She made a face. “What kind of name is that?” 

Link scowled. “I’m here to look for something. And someone,” he added, thinking of the final Sage. Maybe this woman knew her? 

“Well, which is it? Something or someone?” Her eyes narrowed; her grip tightened on her blade. 

Link glared back at her. “Both.” 

The Gerudo woman snorted. “Alright, kid, you don’t have to tell me. But maybe you can help me out, yeah? If you do, I’ll take you back home safe and sound. I’m sure your parents miss you.” 

“My parents are dead,” Link said before he thought better of it. 

Something flashed across her face before she smothered it again. She grunted. “I see. So, you ran away into the desert, huh? Not a great plan, kid, but who am I to judge?” Ignoring his puzzled expression, she ploughed on. “If you help me out, kid, I’ll do you a favour and take you somewhere safe instead. What do you say?” 

Link eyed her as she stowed her sword at her hip, sticking out a hand sheathed in a glove that extended from her knuckles to her elbow. 

“Maybe we can help each other,” he offered. “I’m looking for someone—she’s a Gerudo, like you. She’s a Sage.” 

The woman frowned. “A Sage? I don’t know anyone like that. What’s her name? If she lives here, I know her.” 

“Nabooru.” 

Her face split with a wide grin and she cackled, shaking her head and making the gold earrings in her ears bounce. 

“My name is Nabooru,” she said, drawing up to her full, impressive height. “Leader of the Gerudo.” 

Surprised, Link gaped at her. “You’re Nabooru? Er, I mean, that’s great. I’ve been looking for you. I need to know—” 

Nabooru’s golden eyes flashed again. “Why?” she asked sharply. “Did he send you after me?” 

“Who?” Link frowned, then realized who she must mean. “Ganondorf?” Drawing back suddenly, Nabooru hissed in a breath as her hand crept back to her sword. “He didn’t send me,” Link said quickly, and her posture relaxed again. “I need your help to defeat him.” 

Nabooru’s chuckle confused him. “Wish I could help, kid, but I need help defeating Ganondorf, too. That’s why I’m here. After he...well, let’s just say I made some excuses and came straight here from Castle Town. He and his followers have been using this place as a hideout, but everyone’s gone now.” She glanced at Link, that pinched expression of guilt back. 

“There’s something hidden here that can help me take him down,” she finished. 

“The silver prize?” Link guessed. 

Nabooru’s red brows shot up, and she snorted in disbelief. “I don’t know who you are, kid, but you seem to be the answer to my problem. Did the gods send you?” she joked. 

Chuckling to herself, she stepped aside so Link could see what she’d been investigating on his arrival. A small opening was visible in the interior wall of the alcove, far too tiny to fit an adult. 

“Since I assume you know the story already, smart guy, the silver gauntlets are supposed to be hidden in this side of the temple. I’ve scoured every inch of this place, but there must be some rooms I can’t access except through this hole here.” 

“Silver gauntlets?” Link questioned. “Is that what the treasure is?” 

“Yep. And they won’t fit a kid like you,” she warned, waving a finger in his face. “So, be a good boy and bring them back to me, understood?” 

Begrudgingly, Link nodded. He had no intention of handing them over to Nabooru, though. He needed to take them with him to the future. It was his only way to find her seven years from now. With a scowl, he thought it too bad that he couldn’t simply ask her where she’d be hiding in seven years. 

“Good.” Nabooru patted him on the back. “Now get in there and find ‘em. You seem like a tough kid, so I’m sure you’ll be fine.” 

Resisting the desire to roll his eyes, Link grabbed his lantern and dropped to his hands and knees. The tunnel was completely black, with no way to tell how long it stretched. Hoping he wasn’t about to become stuck forever and starve to death, Link crawled into the opening, pushing the light ahead of him. 

**~oOo~**

Dark swallowed. Nervous tension crawled over the back of his neck, but he reminded himself that her question hadn’t been accusatory, let alone all that unusual. Yet she watched him carefully, analyzing his reaction. 

“He’s my friend,” Dark said through a dry throat. 

“I think he’s more than that.” Zelda frowned. “I noticed when we first met that you resemble Link a great deal, which could be a coincidence.” Dark’s apprehension tightened its grip on his spine. “After I discovered some of your abilities, I asked Impa about you. At first, I thought you were some kind of copy of Link, created by Ganondorf’s dark magic, but Impa would have known.” 

Zelda tilted her head, tapping her fingertips on her folded knees. “That leaves only a few options, unless you are something else entirely.” She arched a brow, as if daring him to admit something sinister. 

“He’s my brother.” 

Her face showed only mild surprise. She had likely guessed as much. Still, it slipped out of Dark’s mouth without a thought; it was strangely nice to tell. 

“I thought Link had no family.” 

“None that he knows of,” Dark muttered. 

“You haven’t told him?” 

“I didn’t want to burden him. He has enough on his mind.” 

“What about your parents? What happened to them?” 

Dark sighed. “I don’t remember much of that night, but I was separated from my mother and Link—he was an infant, then—she fled into the forest. She died.” 

Zelda’s expression softened with sympathy. “And your father?” 

Dark flicked grains of sand from the toes of his boot into the flames. “He was a soldier. Ganondorf attacked our home and killed him.” 

Eyes wide, she stared at him. “So Ganondorf is responsible for this, too.” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Dark.” 

“Not your doing,” he growled. “It’s Ganondorf’s. And luckily, he’ll get what’s coming to him.” 

“Link will defeat him,” Zelda told him, certainty in her voice. “I know it.” 

Dark accepted that with a half-hearted shrug. She was curious, he knew, and wanted to ask more questions. Hazy memories of the past threatened to spill free from his mental barriers. A vision of the nightmares he’d seen while under the curse’s influence hit him like a strike. 

He threw up a defense. “He looks like her.” 

“What?” 

“Link. He looks like our mother. I remember her best; it’s how I knew Link was my brother the first time I met him.” 

“You take after your father?” 

He shrugged again. “I suppose so.” 

She fell silent again, and he was secretly grateful she’d run out of questions. Talking about his parents reminded him of the blackness on his heart, and its unspoken desires for vengeance. For justice. 

“Zelda.” 

“Hm?” 

“Please don’t tell him.” 

Sympathy crossed her expression again. “You have my word.” 

They finished their forgotten tea, now cold, in silence. Soon after, they crawled into their sleeping rolls. Zelda fell asleep quickly, but Dark lay awake for a long time, banishing the memories of the past which rose like a demon horde to overwhelm him. 

Whether he won or lost the fight was uncertain as sleep claimed his exhausted mind. 

**~oOo~**

The stories of the Gerudo’s ancestors were etched onto every wall, creating a tapestry of a long-forgotten history in a dead language. 

Link traced the grooves, shallowed by time and withered by dust. The land of the kingdom of Hyrule was not young; he wondered at the many peoples and cultures that had passed through its borders, passed through the river of time in this place. 

Zelda told him once, during an excursion to Hyrule Castle’s extensive library, that much of the land’s history was only recalled in legends, even myths. No one alive could be certain what was fact and what was imagination. Hyrule’s strife and conflicts had wiped the records from memory. 

Yet here, in this isolated corner of the desert, was an imprint from a people of the past. A message from across time itself. 

Link turned from the wall to face the central chamber’s focus—a similar statue to the one guarding the temple, though smaller. On her head she wore a hood of snakeskin, with a serpent draped over her shoulders. She sat cross-legged; arms outstretched in prayer. Once Link had lit the numerous torches, the large central room of the temple was quite warm and peaceful. The sandstone walls glowed with the firelight, throwing strange shadows. 

Link crouched in front of the statue’s feet, examining the low altar before it. Some of the passages branching off the central room were impassable, the sandstone steps destroyed long ago, or doors blocked off. He’d reached an apparent dead end. 

“Over here, Link.” Navi’s light voice called, the faint light of her wings visible in the darkness behind the great statue. 

Examining the space, Link discovered what Navi was talking about. A hidden door was tucked behind the statue’s base, left unlocked. Trying the handle, he pushed it open forcefully. The door grated over the floor with a shuddering groan. 

It was pitch black inside the next corridor, so Link lit his lantern and Navi floated higher so he could see. A staircase stretched into oblivion ahead. Feeling a bit of trepidation, Link climbed until he found another door. The chamber beyond, to his surprise, was fully illuminated with torches. 

Turning sharply to the left, the L-shaped room was adorned with twin rows of wide columns. Ancient weapons adorned the walls beside faded, thick tapestries. Around the blind corner, Link froze in his tracks when he spotted a gleaming suit of armour sitting upon a high-backed throne. 

“Link,” Navi said in her warning tone. 

Drawing his sword and shield, Link advanced slowly. The suit of armour didn’t budge, but its face mask seemed to be staring straight at him. In its heavy, gauntleted hands it held a two-sided axe twice as big as the Hylian shield. Its silver edge was polished and looked wickedly sharp. 

Link stopped a few steps away. He no longer had the Master Sword’s innate ability to sense the presence of evil, but there was no doubt. There was no reason for this thing to be in an abandoned temple without a speck of dust or rust coating it. 

Without warning, the iron mask moved. 

Metal sliding against metal sounded as the beast stood from its throne, lifting the giant axe in its arms. With a grunt and inhuman speed, it swung the weapon in Link’s direction. 

Leaping back, Link considered his options. The iron monster walked unhurriedly, stalking him. Not wanting to turn his back, Link shuffled backwards. The Kokiri sword wouldn’t do much good against all that armour, and his Deku shield would shatter at the first hit of that axe. 

As if proving the strength of its weapon, the iron monster struck the pillar Link had ducked behind, smashing it into a pile of rubble. Shielding himself from the shower of rocks and dust, Link rolled out of the way of its next attack. 

The axe blade struck the ground hard, sticking fast. The beast growled and tugged to free it. Seizing an opportunity, Link reached for the bomb bag Darunia had given him long ago. A quick and careful toss ensured the goron-made bomb exploded under the monster’s outstretched arms. Its heavy armor was blasted off in chunks, revealing a lighter covering of chainmail and leather. 

Seizing its weapon, it charged Link, moving much faster now without the hindrance of armour. Link dodged behind and between columns while it swished the axe side to side, destroying columns and carving pieces out of the floor. 

After all his battles against creatures of darkness, Link felt sure in his ability to beat this one. A few more bombs he rolled across the floor, picking apart the rest of the iron beast’s defenses. Gripping the Kokiri sword, Link managed to get in a few slashes, dancing around the swing of the axe. 

With a howl the iron fighter at last collapsed to its knees, the empty pieces of armour remaining falling to the floor in a heap. 

“You did it!” Navi cheered. 

Stowing his weapons, Link walked over to the heap of metal. The axe was still gripped tightly in the grip of the gauntlets. Kneeling, he admired the silver gleam of the metal, the strong leather hide and the beautiful rubies adorning the knuckles. 

“These must be them,” he remarked. “The ones Nabooru wants.” 

Sliding them from the axe handle, he tried them on. His hands were too small to fit inside, but he could feel the slight tingle of power they tried to lend him. 

“We should head back to the temple,” Navi urged him. 

“Shouldn’t we bring these to Nabooru?” 

“We might need them,” Navi countered. “Besides, if we give them to her, who knows where they’ll end up in the future?” 

“I guess,” Link replied. He didn’t like the idea of breaking his promise to the Sage, but Navi was right. “I hope she can forgive me.” 

With the silver gauntlets safely in hand, Link retrieved the Ocarina and played the song that would return him to the Temple of Time. He and Navi soon disappeared in a flash of light.


	49. The Witches

He’d thought the sunset last night over the desert valley was beautifully hypnotic, but the sunrise this morning bathed the oasis in liquid gold as it crept over the cliffs. 

Dark stood outside the temple entrance, shielding his eyes as he faced east, tracking the sun’s progress. His attention dropped to the dais buried in the dunes, tucked in a corner of the valley near the temple. Link had been gone about 12 hours, but he wasn’t sure if time travel laws affected that. Still, worry gnawed at his stomach this morning. Unable to sleep, he rose earlier than usual and now regretted it. His brain was fuzzy and refused to cooperate, even with a hot cup of tea. 

Taking care not to wake Zelda, who was surely just as exhausted as he was, Dark had wandered the inside of the temple a bit more, trying to find weaknesses in the barricaded passages, before going outside. 

Now, as he sipped his tea, he lamented that Link had taken his supplies of bombs with him. The smaller, goron-crafted bombs Link carried weren’t as powerful as a powder keg, but that would have been overkill. The pile of rubble inside the temple blocking access to its interior needed something more focused. Something that would cause less damage to the ancient structure and prevent a cave-in. 

Dark’s thoughts drifted from the problem to his time in the Snowhead mountains. He’d befriended some of the gorons who lived there; he had them to thank for his knowledge of bombs. Especially his friend Nurok, a stout little goron who liked to mess around with explosives. 

Not awake enough yet to defend against it, Dark’s mind took him back to Nurok’s lessons and his endless spiels about the types of bombs and how to harvest bomb-making materials. _Bomb flowers seeds should only be harvested at night when the flower is closed...bombchus are very territorial, and they like warm, dry places...don’t touch the powder kegs, Dark..._

The sun inched upwards, finding him behind the shadow of the h-shaped rock formation in front of the temple entrance. The temperature was climbing. Dark reached up to swipe at his hot face and paused. Warm, dry climates. Bombchus. 

He grinned. He would have to thank Nurok sometime. A bombchu would be a perfect way to dislodge the rocks inside the temple and clear the way in. Small, mouse-like creatures with a nasty temperament, bombchus possessed a unique tail. When threatened, bombchus lobbed the swollen bulbs on the end of their tails at attackers, which exploded on impact. 

If he could find a nest and capture one...it could work. He knew Link should be back soon with whatever means they needed to move the gigantic boulder blocking the other half of the temple—maybe not even a powder keg could tackle that—but using a bombchu seemed like a good solution for the rockslide problem. It also gave Dark something to do other than worry. 

Dashing inside, Dark found his pack and grabbed some of the tools he needed. Checking that Zelda was still sleeping, he gathered up his things and went back outside into the desert. 

It was time for a bombchu hunt. 

****** 

Zelda awoke to the sound of someone cursing a blue streak. 

Sitting up on her bedroll, she looked to the temple’s entrance to see Dark wrestling with the cloth bag he held tightly closed in his fist. Whatever was captured inside was putting up quite a fight. 

“What in the goddesses names are you doing?” 

Dark gave the bag a shake. A hissing snarl erupted from it as it began to struggle more violently. “I caught a bombchu.” 

Zelda’s eyes widened. “You caught a what!?” 

Dark grinned triumphantly. “I found a bombchu nest over near the oasis. It wasn’t easy catching this little bastard—or getting away from a stray leever—but it’s worth it. We can use this guy to clear that first passageway.” 

She was already bolting out of her bed. “Are you crazy!? You could cause a collapse! You could get seriously hurt!” 

“Are you worried about me?” he teased. When she huffed in annoyance, he laughed. “Don’t worry, bombchu bombs are relatively stable, so the explosion shouldn’t cause more damage.” 

“When you let that thing out, it will charge you,” she warned. 

“That’s the plan.” 

He handed her the squirming bag, which she took reluctantly. Jogging up the steps to the elevated section of the room, he stood in front of the mass of rubble blocking the left alcove. 

“Alright, on my signal, let him loose.” 

“This is a very bad plan, Dark.” 

“It’ll work, just trust me.” 

“What are you two doing?” 

Link’s voice startled them both. He strolled through the temple entrance without a care, a confused look on his face. 

“Link!” Zelda passed the captive bombchu back to Dark and rushed down the steps, throwing her arms around Link’s shoulders to squeeze him tightly. 

Dark hid a smile at seeing the tips of Link’s ears turn vibrant crimson at her enthusiasm. He hugged her back. 

“Were you guys worried about me?” 

“Not anymore,” Zelda said, releasing him with a smile. She idly pushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear then turned to scowl at Dark. “I’m more worried about his plan to use a bombchu to blow himself up.” 

“Not myself,” he argued. “Just some rocks.” 

Link’s brows shot up. “Well, luckily we don’t need to do that because I have what we need.” With a huge grin, Link lifted his hands, showing off the heavy, silver gauntlets he wore. 

Dark ran down the steps to admire the gauntlets. The craftsmanship was superb, and the rubies inlaid on the backs of the gloves were a nice touch. “Nice,” he complimented. “But accessories aren’t going to help us move that giant block.” 

Grinning even more broadly, Link rushed up the stairs to the block in question, stretching his fingers out in front of him. Bracing himself against the stone, he dug in his feet and began to push. Incredible strength surged through Link’s arms into his chest. The magic of the gauntlets made him feel strong enough to budge even the huge boulder. Slowly, the block inched forward; Link took a step forward, pushing the block ahead of him. 

Dark’s and Zelda’s chins hit the floor. With a grunt, Link shoved the block through the passage and into an alcove out of the way. 

“Can I borrow those sometime?” Dark asked, eyeing the shiny silver gauntlets. 

“I had to fight a giant iron soldier for these.” 

“I’ll fight you for them.” 

“We need to keep moving,” Zelda cut them off, whipping past them around the corner. “Nabooru could be in trouble.” 

Following after her, the men lit Link’s lantern and a couple of torches to light their way as they navigated through the adjoining rooms. When they made their way to the statue room, they came through a door on the opposite side, on a higher level that had been inaccessible to Link seven years ago. 

“This is the place,” he confirmed, watching the magical torches clustered around the room’s corners flare to life in their presence. 

“Nabooru told me the Gerudo ancestors used to use this place for rituals and meditation,” Zelda remarked, nodding at the snake-headed statue. “It’s said one of the rituals allowed them to contact the spirits of their foremothers.” 

“They could talk to the dead?” Dark asked, turning to her. 

“The Gerudo have a very different view of death and the afterlife than we do,” Zelda explained. “They believe the barrier—the veil—between the living and the dead is more … flexible, I suppose.” 

Dark’s gaze landed on the platform at the statue’s base, flanked by torches. He tried to imagine someone kneeling there, successfully reaching across the chasm to touch the spirit of someone who had been lost. Was such a thing really possible? To speak to the dead? 

He glanced at Link, busy scanning the room for unexplored nooks. Dark could feel Zelda’s eyes on his face, pricking him with her curiosity. Did she deduce his thoughts? 

“Let me show you the way to the library,” Zelda said. “There are some places beyond it we can look for Nabooru, deeper inside the temple.” 

Link readily agreed, and Dark pulled himself away from the statue. Even as he followed Link and Zelda up a spiraling staircase into the hidden attic of the temple, the energy of the statue room clung to his skin. 

As they passed through the colossus library, he scanned the dusty tomes on its shelves for some indication, some answer. It was a tempting thought that his parents were merely waiting for him on the other side of some invisible barricade—and that the instructions to speak with them was contained somewhere in the pages around him. 

But he forced himself to abandon that thought. His parents were dead. There was nothing he could do to change that. 

“You can’t,” came Kai’s voice from beside him, startling him. “But Link has the Ocarina.” 

Letting the other two walk a few paces ahead, not wanting them to think him insane, Dark grumbled back, “I’m not going to steal it from him. Besides, Zelda said the Master Sword is the key to traveling back, and it can only be wielded by him.” 

Kai shrugged and vanished from sight again, sliding back into the shadows. 

In the library they found a passage which branched off into another winding staircase. If his mental map of the temple was correct, they were somewhere behind and above the snake-headed statue. 

When they reached an L-shaped room, Link paused so sharply the others nearly ran into his back. 

“This is just like the room where I fought the iron warrior,” he warned, taking a cautious step forward. 

Around the corner, sure enough, waited another iron guard on a throne. This one carried with it a massive sword and a bright, shining shield. 

“Dark, do you still have that bombchu?” 

Dark lifted the bag, which had started to wriggle again in earnest. “Yes.” 

“We’ll need it.” 

Link drew his sword. Zelda and Dark moved to flank him. As before, the suit of armour shifted and stood, brandishing its formidable weapon as it advanced on them with clanking steps. 

“The bombchu!” Link shouted. 

Untying the knot and dropping it on the floor, Dark aimed the critter straight at the advancing enemy. With a hiss and burst of speed, the bombchu charged, throwing its explosive tail at the feet of the iron soldier. As the bombchu made its escape, the bomb exploded a moment later, forcing the monster back a few steps. 

Enraged, it tried to regain its footing as Link and Dark seized their chance to hack away at its protective layers. With a roar, it raised its shield to block their attacks, countering with a deadly swipe. 

They avoided the blade, but it collided with two of the columns with force, showering them with rubble. Zelda flung a barrier around them just in time, following that bit of magic with a fiery missile. 

The monster’s shield deflected it, sending it straight back at her. Zelda yelped and threw up her hands to summon another barrier, watching the flames of her magic slide harmlessly over it before vanishing. 

Switching tactics, she grabbed the throwing knives Sheik had preferred and tossed them in a flurry as Dark and Link kept it occupied. They just couldn’t seem to do much damage. Tiring of their attacks, the iron warrior ripped off its own outer layers of armour, throwing them aside. Now moving faster, it wielded the enormous sword with even more force, pushing them onto the defensive. 

“You almost have it!” Navi encouraged them, darting around Link. 

“I have a plan!” Dark called. Without waiting to hear Link’s response, he ran at the iron beast just as the bombchu had done. 

“Dark!” 

Ducking low to avoid the attack, Dark let himself drop and slide under the creature, slashing at its legs as he went. Distracted, it twisted awkwardly to follow his movements, exposing its back to Link. 

Link gripped the Master Sword, prepared to plunge the blade into its unprotected back. 

“Link, wait!” Zelda cried out. “The jewel! Just break the jewel!” 

On the soldier’s uncovered back, between the shoulder blades, there was a decorative pink jewel laid into the leather under armour. Changing the angle of his swing, Link brought his sword up and down, striking the gemstone and cracking it in two. 

The creature froze mid-swing, sparing Dark from its wrath as he rolled out of the way. With a shriek it dropped to its knees, abandoning its sword and shield, lifting its gauntleted hands to its head as if in pain. 

It continued to howl, the inhuman sounds changing to a woman’s scream as the pieces of armour fell away, revealing a person inside it. 

A Gerudo woman knelt there on the floor, cradling her head in her hands, panting heavily to regain her breath. 

Zelda gasped and rushed forward. “Nabooru!” 

Shocked, Link sheathed his sword and ran to join Zelda, who was helping Nabooru to her feet. 

“Where am I?” the Gerudo woman asked. Disoriented, she blinked several times, pushing her hair out of her face. Her gaze passed right over Dark and Link without recognition, focusing on Zelda. “Zelda, what’s--” 

“It’s alright,” Zelda soothed her friend. “You were under their spell, but it’s broken now. You’re in the Spirit Temple.” 

Nabooru groaned and rubbed her temples. “My head aches something wicked.” 

Link grabbed his pack for the remaining vial of red potion, holding it out for her. Nabooru lifted her head to thank him, her eyes narrowing as her fingers closed on the vial. 

Her eyes lit with recognition. “You!” 

Link chuckled nervously. “Hi, Nabooru.” 

She tried to bolt to her feet, then dropped back down with a groan. “Damn it.” She glared up at him. “You’re the kid who made off with my silver gauntlets,” she accused, dropping her eyes to Link’s hands. “And made good use of them, I see. I never forget the people who’ve stolen from me, kid, even after they’re all grown up,” she warned with a wolfish smile. 

“Nabooru,” Zelda said, inching between the two of them. “This is Link, who I told you about. Do you remember?” 

The Gerudo squinted. “Huh. In that case...” She managed to stand up without swaying, extending her hand to him. When he took it, she hauled him close with a punishing grip, leaning down to say in his ear: “We’ll call it even, eh, kid? I owe you thanks for breaking the witches’ spell, anyways.” 

“Sure,” Link agreed, nervously noting the wicked gleam in her topaz eyes. 

Nabooru chuckled, then released him so Zelda could introduce her to Dark. While the two shook hands, Link turned to Zelda just as the room began to shake around them. 

“What’s happening?!” 

Navi was going haywire, flitting above their heads. “Get away from the wall!” she screeched. 

Link repeated the order for the others, and the four of them hit the deck as the wall behind them exploded in a burst of fire, and they narrowly missed being singed. 

“Damn!” Nabooru craned her neck to see back through the new hole in the wall. “They found us!” 

“Everyone up!” Dark shouted, as another column of flames came hurtling through the opening. 

The four of them ran for the exit but were cut off by a frigid blast of magic that created a thick wall of ice over the doorway. Zelda threw up her arms, tossing her own magic at the barrier, but it wouldn’t give way. 

Gleeful cackles sounded behind them. “Nowhere to run!” a taunting voice warbled. “Nowhere to hide!” 

Two tiny old women flew through the hole atop broomsticks, giggling madly. 

“It’s the witches,” Nabooru growled. “Koume and Kotake.” 

Both women were identical, from their missing teeth to their tangled messes of grey hair, standing on end as if they’d recently been shocked. One sported a headband adorned with a red jewel, the other a blue one. Their cloaks and jewelry all had Gerudo designs. 

“Nabooru,” called Kotake, the blue-gem-wearing twin said. “You have betrayed Lord Ganondorf and broken our spell!” 

“We will dole out your punishment in his stead,” Koume cut in, raising a thin arm. In her gnarled hand she held another fire ball. 

She launched it at them, and they scattered. The projectile hit the ice wall instead, melting it instantly. 

“Princess Zelda!” Kotake cackled, as she and her twin began to circle them. “We will escort you to Lord Ganondorf personally!” 

“As for the rest of you,” Koume added, “We needn’t bother!” 

A blast of the witches’ ice magic nearly struck Zelda between the shoulder blades before Link yanked her out of the way. The ice crystals dissipated harmlessly, and a shrieking Kotake readied another attack. 

Nabooru ran for the remains of the iron armour she’d been trapped in, rummaging until she found the shining mirrored shield. 

“Link!” she called out, but her voice was drowned out by another blast of fire from Koume. 

Hiding behind a pillar across the room, Link tried to reach her. The witches flew in between them, cutting them off from each other. 

Nabooru turned and ran for the hole in the wall, dragging Dark along with her. “This way!” 

Link and Zelda stood from their hiding spot, ready to follow. A blast of ice shot from Kotake’s hand, barring the way out. 

“We won’t fall for the same trick twice!” she warned, swooping towards them. 

“Link, this way!” Zelda grabbed his hand and sprinted for the exit, the witches’ cackles hounding them. 

Bursts of fire at their backs told them Koume was hot on their heels as they ran back through the maze of corridors and stairwells. Kotake turned off to give chase to the other two. 

Elsewhere in the temple, Nabooru and Dark were on a mad dash, with the witch’s icy breath on their backs. Following Nabooru’s lead, they found an alternate way to the statue room, where they found Link and Zelda back into a corner by the fire-wielding witch. 

Link pushed Zelda behind him, lifting his Hylian shield in front of them. The move amused the witch, who unleashed the full fury of her flames on the metal barrier. 

Slammed against the wall by the force of the magic, Link’s arm began to shake under the strain as the magical fire started to eat through the shield. 

“Damn it!” Nabooru leapt down to a lower level, landing in a practice roll before popping back to her feet. She rushed towards the others, putting herself and the mirrored shield between Link and the fiery column. 

Rebounding, the fire shot back at Koume, who dispelled it with a snap of her fingers. 

“It won’t be so easy!” she taunted, swooping higher to avoid an attack from Link’s blade. 

“Link, your arm!” Zelda exclaimed. 

Link let the shield fall from his fingers, tucking his right arm against his body. “I’ll be fine,” he replied through gritted teeth. 

“We have no more red potion!” Zelda argued. “You’re burned! You can’t fight!” 

Before he could argue, Nabooru shoved the mirror shield at him. “Protect her,” she told him sternly. “Let us do the rest.” 

She nodded at Dark, who had joined them, and the two drew their blades. Link awkwardly hefted the shield, keeping his back to the wall while Zelda readied her knives at his side. Overhead the witches circled like vultures, resting for their next attack. Expelling such huge amounts of magic took time and concentration. 

“Let’s finish this, Koume.” 

“We’ve wasted enough time, haven’t we, sister?” 

They descended together, whipping between Nabooru and Dark, avoiding their slices with heckling calls. They rained fire and ice down on Link and Zelda, but the mirror shield deflected their magic each time. The witches grew more careful, changing their patterns, not bothering to dispel any wayward attacks sent spiralling by the shield, conserving their energy. 

Rising up towards the ceiling, the twins clasped hands, flying in a circle until the magical energy they created between the two of them could be felt like lightning in the air. Lifting their free hands, they combined their magical elements into one twisting braid of flame and ice. The magic whipped towards them like a bolt, tearing into the floor and spraying them with shrapnel as it advanced. 

Nabooru and Dark were flung aside by the tornado of magic. Link heard Zelda’s sharp gasp behind him, but he didn’t look back. Dropping his sword, he used both hands to keep the mirror shield in front of them. 

The tornado was shaking the entire room, making his teeth rattle in his head, trying to shake his balance. Link held onto the shield’s grips as tightly as possible. It touched the shield’s polished surface and went haywire. 

Shards of ice and fire splintered off, flying in all directions. Link ducked behind the shield, trying to keep as much of himself and Zelda covered. 

Above them, the witches screamed as a shard of ice pierced Koume just as a fragment of flame engulfed Kotake. With their own magic turned against them, the witches were overwhelmed. 

The chaotic magic tore through the room, burning itself out as its wielders were destroyed by it. 

Link let the shield drop with a clank, dropping to his knee with a grunt. His tunic had been ripped where the shield hadn’t protected him, a thousand little cuts over his face, arms and legs. His burned arm throbbed and howled, so he cradled it against his chest. When his strength gave out, he let himself fall back against the wall. 

“Link!” Zelda’s wide-eyed face appeared. “Link, just hold on. Hold on, please.” 

Link’s eyelids fluttered. He tried to listen to her voice, but something else was tugging at him, pulling him away. 

_I’ll see her again_, he reassured himself as the darkness edged into his vision. _I’ll always come back._


	50. Bonds

Link was back in the Chamber of Sages. The sandstone temple walls were replaced by the pulsing blue and infinite blackness. 

Once again, Link stood on the image of the Triforce, its three golden triangles gleaming. Nabooru waited on the polished copper-coloured pedestal, hands on her hips. 

“Let me thank you, kid.” Nabooru smirked, tossing her crimson ponytail. “Sorry, you’re not a kid anymore, huh? You impressed me with your swordsmanship. You may even be as good as myself,” she added with a wink. 

Link chuckled and scratched the back of his head. “I’m sorry those witches brainwashed and imprisoned you.” 

Nabooru sighed and crossed her arms. “It was my own carelessness. I really messed up, Link.” She lasered him with a golden stare. “Years ago,” she paused with a smirk, “I guess the other day for you, I had finally come to my senses and realized that Ganondorf did not want what was best for the Gerudo. So I was hiding out at the Spirit Temple, gathering the allies I had among our people. But once some of them started acting strangely...” she shook her head. “I knew the witches’ were up to something. But they caught up with me and forced me to do Ganondorf’s bidding.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Link said. “I don’t blame the Gerudo for what Ganondorf has done.” 

Nabooru grunted. “Every 100 years, a single male child is born to the Gerudo. Our tradition says he will become our king. At first, Ganondorf seemed like a perfect candidate to fulfill that prophecy. But he was only interested in getting revenge on Hyrule and embroiling our people in further war.” Her lips curled in a rueful smile. “I’ve never claimed to be anything other than what I am, and I refuse to let Ganondorf make me into his puppet again. Funny, that a person like me was chosen to be one of the Sages, hm?” 

Link grinned. “Not really.” 

Nabooru chuckled. “You’re sweet. I plan to pay Ganondorf back for everything he put me and my people through. As the Sage of Spirit, I think I could help you kick his ass.” Her smile broadened in anticipation. 

Placing a closed fist over his chest, Link bowed. “It would be my honour to fight with you.” 

When he straightened, the bronze medallion containing Nabooru’s power floated in the air before him. He took it, looking up to meet the sage’s topaz eyes. 

“We’ll talk more soon,” she promised. Nabooru tilted her head, studying him as the platform she stood on began to glow, enveloping her in light. “If I’d known you’d grow up to be so handsome, I would’ve kept the promise I made to you,” she teased, lifting her hand to blow him a kiss. 

Link’s face flushed crimson while she vanished within the light with a bark of laughter. 

He waited for the light to intensify, take him back to the Spirit Temple, but the Chamber remained still. 

“Link.” 

He turned to see Rauru, the Sage of Light, standing on the golden pedestal. The old sage kept his arms folded before him, his pale eyes serious and probing. 

“It is time,” Rauru told him. “For you to face your destiny and challenge Ganondorf.” 

Link clenched his fingers into fists at his side. He steeled his spine and faced the sage. “I understand,” he said. 

“With the power of all the Sages awakened,” Rauru continued, “we can add all of our strength to the fight. When the time comes, we Sages and Princess Zelda will use our power to seal the spirit of Ganondorf here in the Sacred Realm, after you have struck the final blow.” 

A clawed its way up Link’s neck. In his memory were flashes of the other villains and creatures he’d slain to free the sages: Ganondorf’s phantom, howling in rage; Bongo Bongo’s single red eye, empty and eerie; Gohma’s hulking form, razor-sharp pincers flashing in the gloom; Volvagia’s great scaled head, his bright green dragon’s eyes fading. 

None of them would compare to this last challenge. The final battle. 

Link swallowed, his dry throat clicking. “I’ll be ready,” he assured the sage. 

Moments later, the soft blue halo of light surrounded Link, and the Chamber began to fade. Rauru watched him vanish, his gaze steady. 

Inside the Temple of Light, his burned arm and wounds hadn’t bothered him, but in the outside world, the agony would come roaring back. Link unconsciously tucked his right arm closer to his body, readying himself for waking up back in the Spirit Temple. 

He hovered in complete darkness for a heartbeat, feeling weightless, until reality came rushing back in a blur of sensation. His body was incredibly heavy, and weirdly numb. Something heavy and cool was wrapped around his arm, soothing the ache of the burn. Experimentally, he wriggled his fingers and was rewarded with a painful throb shooting up into his shoulder. 

Creaking his eyes open, Link saw a high, rectangular window etched into the rock wall. He was back in Gerudo Fortress, then. The others must have carried him back. Turning his head, he saw Navi curled up in his hat next to his pillow. The bout in the Spirit Temple must have drained her. 

Twisting to look to the right, Link felt his heart stutter in his chest. Zelda was there. Sitting next to his bedside, she rested her head on her folded arms on the mattress beside him. Fast asleep, her breaths slow and deep, her expression relaxed. Her shiny blonde hair was braided back into a loose ponytail, strands escaping around her ears. 

Link shifted to sit up in the bed, but movement jarred her, startling her awake. She jerked up, her bleary eyes focusing on him. 

“Link,” she mumbled. “You’re awake.” 

Before he could reply, her warm fingers touched his forehead, and he froze. When she asked how he was feeling, he made a noncommittal response. She sat on the edge of his bed, frowning. 

“I’ll bring you some more red potion,” she told him, lifting her hand from his forehead. Link released his held breath, but then her fingers brushed his forearm, squeezing reassuringly. Their gazes clashed. Link’s heartbeat thrummed so loudly he was shocked she didn’t hear it. 

“I’m--” 

The thick tapestry covering the doorway in the small bedroom flipped back, revealing Dark, dressed in loose brown pants and a red tunic. 

“Hey, look who’s awake!” he grinned at Link. “Knew you’d pull through, man.” 

“We’ll talk later,” Zelda murmured, her gaze traveling over his face before she pulled away. She lifted her hand from his arm and hurried out of the room, nodding at Dark as she passed. 

Watching her depart, Dark reached into the bag he’d brought with him. “I brought you a present.” He opened his hand to reveal a big, red apple. 

Link chuckled, taking the fruit and sinking his teeth into it. “Thanks.” 

Leaning back in the chair Zelda had vacated, Dark took an enormous chunk out of a second apple. “You want some advice?” 

“Advice about what?” Link asked, rubbing his temples with the forefinger and thumb of his free hand. The headache pounding there was maddening. 

“Kissing,” Dark said. A wicked grin spread across his lips when Link looked at him. “In case the moment arises.” 

Link pretended to be intrigued by his apple, taking another bite. “Not sure what you mean.” 

Snickering, Dark lifted his apple to his mouth, pressing his lips into the bite indent. “Like this,” he explained, flicking his tongue lewdly, his eyes gleaming. 

Choking on a bite of apple, Link smacked himself in the chest. “That’s ridiculous.” 

“That’s pretty tame, actually.” 

“I don’t need any advice,” Link growled, tossing the half-eaten apple at Dark, who dodged it. “Nothing happened.” 

“But you want it to,” Dark stated. 

Link scrubbed his hands over his face in frustration. “I don’t know.” 

Losing his smirk, Dark leaned forward, elbows propped on the bed. “It’s okay. You like her.” He grinned. “Not that I blame you.” 

“She’s my friend.” 

Dark shrugged. “Sienna was my friend.” 

Link leaned his head back against the wall. Unfortunately, there were no answers written on the ceiling above him. 

“It feels different,” he said. “She’s the first friend I made here in Hyrule, and for me, it wasn’t that long ago. But for her, it’s been seven years. I feel as if we don’t know each other anymore.” 

Dark made a sympathetic noise. “She might feel the same as you do. Why don’t you spend some time with her?” 

Link snorted. “When? I’ve awakened the final Sage. There’s only one thing left to do.” 

“Recover?” 

Sighing, Link said, “Defeat Ganondorf.” 

He tried to ignore the cold coil of fear in the pit of his stomach. Despite all the battles he’d won, the seemingly impossible feats he’d accomplished, this final task scared the hell out of him. Link had always known he would need to fight and defeat Ganondorf to save Hyrule. Somehow this last mission had crept up and surprised him. 

“Not yet,” Dark answered, and a brief wash of relief swept through Link. “You’re not ready to fight until you’re healed, and we can’t leave until Nabooru and the Gerudo are ready to leave with us.” 

Link frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“Nabooru and her warriors are coming with us to join the fight against Ganondorf. Once we rendezvous with Impa and the resistance fighters in Kakariko, we can launch the final strike against him.” 

Link blinked. For some reason, he’d always imagined that in the final battle, he would be alone. The knowledge that others were pledged to fight with him eased some of the nervousness gnawing through his gut, but it was followed by a sliver of apprehension. 

“There’s no need for so many people to risk their lives,” he protested. “It’s my job as the Hero of Time to defeat Ganondorf.” 

“No doubt you will,” Dark agreed, stripping the apple to its core. “But Impa and the others have been preparing for this, right? They want to free Hyrule from his tyranny just as much as you.” 

While Link considered this, Dark stuffed the apples cores in the sack and stood up. “You’re not alone in this fight,” he assured him with a quick pat on the shoulder. “You have me, and Zelda, and the Sages. Get some rest,” he added. “I’ll come visit you later.” 

Once Dark left, letting the cloth fall back into place, Link laid back down and tried to sleep. His arm throbbed dully, his headache beating against the inside of his cranium, making sleep elusive. Link conjured the faces of his friends and allies to his mind, trying to take comfort in the knowledge they would be helping him, supporting him when he went to face his destiny. But the fear remained, burying inside his heart and eating a hole through his emotional shields. If he failed, what would become of them? 

**~oOo~**

Being back in her chambers after so many years away was disconcerting. Nabooru sat cross-legged on a large pillow, taking in the familiar surroundings of the fortress with a frown. The furnishings were minimal but comfortable. Aside from the pillows and rugs decorating the floors and the tapestry hanging on the wall behind her, there was only a small table and chairs. It was always meant to be a temporary home for her people, but thanks to Ganondorf’s plans, it had become their home for seven long years. 

_And where was I?_ She asked herself. _On the run. Hiding. When I knew they were suffering. When I knew they needed my help._

Sasha cleared her throat, poking her head under the cloth over the door. Nabooru gestured for her to enter, and the woman came to kneel in front of her, thumping her fist to her heart. 

“What is it, Sasha?” 

The other woman lifted her bowed head, her short hair falling across her brow. “The princess has received a message from Lady Impa. She’s on her way.” 

Nabooru nodded her thanks. “And the warriors?” 

The Gerudo fortress was home to perhaps 200 of their fighters. The rest were presumed to be at Hyrule Castle or elsewhere in Hyrule, doing Ganondorf’s bidding. Whether by choice or thanks to the witches’ spells remained to be seen. None of Nabooru’s warriors had heard from their sisters in some time, it seemed. 

Since returning to the fortress, Nabooru had quickly resumed command, thankful that the death of Koume and Kotake meant their brainwashing spells were broken. The Gerudo here were loyal to her, not Ganondorf, and would fight for their cause. 

“The injured are in the infirmary,” Sasha was saying. “No one was seriously hurt during the, er...escape.” 

Nabooru smirked, knowing she meant the escape of Link, Dark and Zelda from the fortress on their way to the temple. 

“The rest of us are readying everything we have for our departure. And fortunately, our supplies were not damaged.” Sasha’s brow creased. “The...Sheikah man has also told us that the fortress is free of evil magic.” 

“Sheikah man?” Nabooru asked, belatedly realizing who she meant. “Dark?” Sasha nodded. 

When Dark had told her he could dispel the evil aura hanging about the place, more than a few questions had come to the tip of her tongue. But Zelda and Link trusted him, so she had as well. Whether he was Sheikah or not didn’t matter to her, but she was curious about his strange abilities. 

“Keep up with the preparations,” Nabooru said to Sasha. “Send Dark and Zelda here as soon as you can. Once we’ve finalized our plans to rendezvous with Impa, I’ll let you know.” 

“Of course, commander.” 

No sooner had Sasha risen to her feet than Zelda and Dark came through the doorway. Nabooru stood up from her place, noting the grim look on the princess’s face. 

“Your timing is perfect,” she told them as Sasha left. “I hear you had a message from Impa.” 

Zelda’s brow furrowed. “There has been no more trouble at Kakariko, thank the goddesses. It seems Ganondorf hasn’t sent new guards and all is well.” 

“Good news, then,” Nabooru said, crossing to the table. “Have a seat, if you like. I have some wine here to finish.” She picked up a jug and gave it a shake to check the contents, then poured three goblets of what was left. “You don’t seem happy about the news,” she remarked to Zelda. 

The princess took a seat opposite Nabooru, with Dark on her right. “I have been worried the sorcerer will make a reappearance. This stretch of almost peace is making me uneasy.” 

“Alatar isn’t concerned with Kakariko,” Nabooru replied, noticing from the corner of her eye the way Dark stiffened the slightest bit at the name. When she glanced at him, his expression was hidden by his cup. “Ganondorf has nearly run out of loyal human soldiers,” she explained. “He relies on the evil creatures Alatar can summon for him. The desert men he recruited to help him win his war—the Babsa tribe, among others—are nearly depleted acting as his guard across Hyrule. Some of them have even deserted, I’ve heard, with Ganondorf’s failure to repay them. His control is slipping.” 

“So now is the right time to gather our resistance and strike,” Dark finished, setting his goblet down. 

“Aye,” agreed Nabooru. “Impa has not been idle, princess. She has a good force of fighters.” 

“I know,” Zelda sighed, her shoulders drooping. “I just cannot shake this feeling. We are well prepared, and we have fighters, and I do not doubt anyone...” 

Nabooru reached a hand across the table to grasp her fingers. “Zelda, dear, my warriors and I will fight with you. All of Hyrule will fight with you. And Link will defeat Ganondorf, I have no doubt.” 

Zelda met her gaze, her turquoise eyes full of apprehension. She inhaled slowly, tightening her grip on Nabooru’s hand. “You’re right,” she said. “I know you are right. But I want to be prepared.” 

The sage patted her hand. “You are as ready as you can be. I take it Impa has a plan?” 

Zelda blew out her breath, straightening her back and folding her hands in front of her. “Yes,” she replied, the picture of confidence and grace once again. She proceeded to relay the rest of Impa’s message, as well as the anticipated meeting location. It would take two weeks to reach, but it couldn’t be helped, not with traveling with so many of the Gerudo and their supplies making their progress slower. 

“Two weeks will suffice,” Nabooru said. “By that time Link will have recovered. I’ll have our physician bring him something to help heal the burns quicker. And we need him in fighting shape.” 

“We’ll need to leave tomorrow,” Zelda said, concern furrowing her brow. “Is it safe to move him?” 

“He’ll be alright,” she assured her. “A little jostling won’t kill him.” She stood from her chair. “You two make sure you’re ready to leave tomorrow morning. My girls will take care of the rest.” 

After Dark and Zelda departed, Nabooru gathered the jug and goblets and looked around the room once more. From the wide, paneless window, she could see her warriors moving outside, loading supplies onto wagons. They were efficient and determined, eager to get back into action. They had spent so many years stuck here in the canyon, all but abandoned by their king. The Gerudo people back home in the desert were missing their sisters. 

Ganondorf had much to answer for as far as Nabooru was concerned. Not only leading their people into yet another bloody war that gained them nothing, but for destroying the land of Hyrule and its peoples, for turning his back on the Gerudo way of life. But Nabooru would do her part to fix the wounds Ganondorf had inflicted. 

Soon, she hoped to see the back of this fortress. Soon, she hoped to bring her people home where they belonged. 

**~oOo~**

Dark walked through the Gerudo encampment until he’d reached the largest tent on the north side. The tan cloth was sturdy and windproof, with an oiled tarp draped over top in case it rained. Now that they were out of the dry canyon and back in Hyrule Field, the unpredictable weather could whip up a storm at any moment. 

With a quick check to the sky, he decided a storm was more than likely tonight, seeing the heavy grey clouds rolling in. The two guards flanking the entrance stepped forward to announce him and pull back the tent flaps. The opening was tall enough he didn’t even need to duck—the interior of the tent was similarly roomy, with a high ceiling to accommodate the tallness of an average Gerudo. 

Inside, Nabooru was finishing her dinner, seated on a large, plush cushion. The Gerudo didn’t bother with much furniture, preferring to travel light and quickly. 

“Have you eaten?” she asked, gesturing at the spread of food in front of her. “Help yourself.” 

“I ate already,” he said, thanking her with a nod as he sat on a cushion opposite. 

Her golden eyes met his for a second before she reached for her goblet of wine. Dark internally fidgeted as he waited for her to tell him what she wanted. He wasn’t used to receiving a summons from anyone, especially not the Gerudo tribe leader. 

It had been three days since they’d left Gerudo Fortress, and in that time he’d tried to make himself useful in the camp. Working alongside the Gerudo fighters had been interesting, to say the least. He’d rarely seen Link or Zelda, as the former was still recovering and the latter spent most of her time at his bedside, watching over him. 

Deciding they didn’t need Dark getting in their way, he’d spent his time in the evenings around of the campfires, somewhat distanced from the Gerudo soldiers. They’d welcomed him to sit with them at mealtimes or enjoy a game for entertainment, but Dark had only half-heartedly joined in, more so because of his own reservations than their attitudes. Unlike their reputation, he found the Gerudo to be warm and hospitable, treating their guests like members of their close-knit family. Dark blamed his reticence on lack of sleep. Traveling on horseback for most of the days and lying on his pallet at night left him with no relief from the fear for Sienna, the fear of himself. 

He doubted the Gerudo, or anyone else, would welcome him if they knew of the corruption inside him. The shadow that threatened to sink its claws back into him. 

“I have something for you,” Nabooru said. 

Distracted from his thoughts, Dark looked up as she stood and crossed to the side of the tent. Reaching into a low, wide chest, Nabooru retrieved a package bundled in cloth and kneeled back on her cushion. She held the gift out for him to take. 

“What for?” he asked, carefully unwrapping the long, narrow item. Inside were a dozen arrows, intricately carved with strange symbols. Their tips were blue, small but wickedly sharp. Even through the cloth, they exuded a slight coolness against his fingers. 

“Enchanted ice arrows,” she explained with a grin. “A bit of a Gerudo specialty, as it were.” 

He tried not to gape in surprise. “Why are you giving me these?” 

Nabooru poured more wine into her goblet and a second one, which she nudged towards him. “After everything you did in the Spirit Temple? You and Link are honorary Gerudo now. Don’t worry,” she added, seeing his confusion and surprise. “I gave him a present as well.” 

Dark admired the craftsmanship of the arrows, curious as to how they were made. “I don’t know what to say.” 

“You three risked your lives to save me,” the Gerudo leader replied. “This is the least we can do to thank you. Not many men get this honour,” she said meaningfully. 

Dark lowered his head to show he understood. “Thank you.” 

Nabooru waved a hand and pointed at his cup. “None of that. We drink. To the Gerudo.” 

“To the Gerudo,” Dark agreed, tipping back his goblet. 

Lowering her cup, Nabooru said sincerely, “I hope we will enjoy a long friendship, and that you will come visit us once all this mess is over with.” Her eyes sparked with mischief and warmth. “We’re family now.” 

Dark nodded slowly. Her words had roused his earlier thoughts, distracting him. 

“You should get some rest,” she said, moving to stand and stretch her limbs. “We’ll be rendezvousing with Impa tomorrow afternoon.” 

Dark climbed to his feet, securing the ice arrows back in their wrappings. “Sure,” he murmured, his mind elsewhere. If Nabooru noticed, she didn’t comment. 

After bidding her goodbye, Dark left the tent and scanned the camp. No fires had been lit tonight, now that they were so close to Ganondorf’s territory, but there were lanterns filled with light-stones that gave off a faint enough glow that they wouldn’t be seen from far away. Groups of Gerudo patrolled the camp perimeter or cleaned up after dinner, readying for bed. 

Back in the tent he shared with Link, he was surprised to find the other man’s bed was empty. Leaving the ice arrows behind, he went back outside to look for him. 

Not finding him in the camp, he meandered further away to the edge of the forest. The air was thick and cool with the threat of the coming rain, and he found himself wandering more aimlessly. 

Nabooru’s comment about a future visit and them being family now pricked at him. His only goal was to free Sienna, to see her safe. But what then, when Ganondorf was defeated? How could she love him with the darkness inside him? How could he trust himself around her when he didn’t trust himself? 

Low voices caught his attention, and he noticed Link and Zelda sitting underneath a tree up ahead, heads together as if sharing secrets. 

Dark’s heart squeezed at the thought he would never be able to have a relationship with his brother, either. Anyone he cared about was in danger as long as Alatar’s curse held sway over him. At any moment, the sorcerer could turn him into a mindless monster. 

As he watched Link smile at something Zelda said, he felt conflicted. Link deserved to know the truth about his family. And if he was honest, he didn’t want to let him go without telling him. He would tell Link, then he would go. He would free Sienna, and then he would leave. Maybe someday he’d find a way to break the curse. 

Dark hovered a short distance away, not wanting to interrupt but feeling he may explode if he didn’t get a chance to speak with Link. Zelda noticed him hesitating and greeted him, waving him over. Feeling foolish, Dark walked over to join them, protesting when Zelda got to her feet and announced she was heading back to the camp. She assured Link and him it was fine and that she was tired, anyway. 

When she started to walk off, Dark caught her gaze, silently thanking her. With a slight smile, she nodded back. 

Sitting in the grass beside Link and the lantern he and Zelda had brought with them, he asked, “Mind if I join you?” 

“Not at all.” He leaned back against the tree’s wide trunk, fixated on the cloudy sky. 

“It’s going to rain,” Dark said, then mentally punched himself for the inane observation. 

“I know. I don’t like not being able to see the stars,” Link muttered, frowning. At Dark’s curious look, he explained, “Some nights, when it was just me and Navi, camping in Hyrule Field or the bank of the river or in the forest, I couldn’t sleep. Looking at the stars seemed to help. They remind me of when I grew up in Kokiri Forest, I guess.” 

Dark could only imagine how many quiet, solitary nights his brother had spent in the wild, knowing Ganondorf’s spies and monsters were hunting him, knowing the fate of the world rested on him. Link had friends and allies all over Hyrule, but they couldn’t take the burden for him. They weren’t always with him. The Hero’s path was lonely. 

“How does it remind you of growing up in the forest?” 

“The night sky in the forest is sort of...smaller, somehow. You can only see a glimpse of it through the trees. Out here, in the open, it just never ends. The world is so much bigger than I thought.” 

Dark grinned at seeing the look on Link’s face. “I guess you were made to be an adventurer.” 

Link laughed. “Maybe so. I know now that I was always meant to leave the forest.” His tone was sad now. “I used to wonder about the world outside all the time, but when I finally left, it hit me what I had to leave behind.” 

Awkwardly, Dark placed his hand on Link’s shoulder reassuringly. “You’ve gained a lot,” he pointed out. “New friends...family.” 

Link turned his head with a grin. “That’s true.” 

Hesitantly, Dark asked, “Do you ever wonder about them? Your family?” 

Link shrugged. “I don’t know much about them. The Great Deku Tree told me my mother died to protect me, making sure I was safe in the forest.” 

A slash of grief tore into Dark as he remembered his mother. Remembered her voice calling to him in the chaos. 

“You look so much like her.” His voice sounded hollow, raspy. 

Confusion, then hope showed in Link’s eyes. “What do you mean? Did you know her?” 

Dark stared at the lantern, casting them in a faint yellow glow. “She was my mother, too.” He forced his eyes up until they met Link’s, the sapphire blue of his irises so achingly familiar. 

Link stared at him. He imagined he could actually see his heart pumping harder through the fabric of his tunic. After interminable seconds where Dark’s head threatened to explode, Link seemed to shake himself from the stupor. 

“We—” Link swallowed. “We have the same mother?” 

“Yes.” Dark shifted, uncomfortable. “And the same father, too, if you were wondering.” 

Link’s eyes widened. “What? But—How—?” 

Dark felt a smile tweak his lips. “I don’t think now is the time to tell you how babies are made,” he joked. 

Scowling at the familiar teasing, Link’s mouth caught up with his shocked brain. “I’m being serious.” 

“As am I.” Dark shrugged. “We’re brothers. Flesh and blood.” 

“How do you know for sure?” 

Dark tried to ignore the hopeful note in Link’s voice. “Like I said, you look just like her. I knew it from the first moment we met. I was young when they died, but I remember what she looked like. You have her eyes,” he explained. 

Link turned to look straight ahead, his hands in his lap, curling and uncurling his fingers. “They’re both gone, then,” he finally managed. “Our parents.” 

“Yeah. Sorry.” Dark grimaced. “As far as I know, we’re all that’s left. I grew up in an orphanage.” 

“What happened to them?” 

Link’s gaze was back on his face. Dark’s guts twisted; this was the part he didn’t want to tell him. “There was an attack on the village where we lived,” Dark explained, reciting half from memory and half from Fierce’s retelling. “Our mother took you and I—you were just a baby, then—and tried to escape. I was separated from her, or I went to look for our dad.” He frowned. “He was killed. I always thought you and our mom had been killed, too, but obviously that isn’t true.” 

When Link continued to stare at him, his features showing, horror, sympathy, sadness and grief, Dark looked away, plucking idly at a blade of grass. It shocked the hell out of him when Link’s arms came around his shoulders, hugging him tight. 

He frowned. “What’re you doing?” 

Link released him. “Sorry,” he muttered. He looked back at Dark. “I can’t imagine how hard it is to remember all that, to grow up without parents...” 

“You grew up without parents.” 

“I had the Kokiri. I had the Great Deku Tree. I never had any parents to miss.” 

“I had Sienna,” Dark grumbled defensively. “I wasn’t totally alone.” 

Link smiled. “I’m glad.” 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Dark said, pointing his finger at Link’s face. “I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.” When the bastard continued to smile, Dark growled. 

“Can I ask you something?” Without waiting for a reply, Link said, “Why didn’t you tell me before now?” 

Dark sighed, brushing a hand through his long hair. “Never seemed like the right time, I guess. You’re always off trying to save the world. I didn’t want to add to your problems.” 

“And now?” 

A shrug. “I was tired of keeping it from you.” 

Link nodded, watching Dark, his gaze traveling over his face. 

With another sigh, Dark said, “I know you want to hug me again.” A smile crept onto Link’s face. “Well, go on then.” 

Suffering through another brotherly embrace, Dark shoved aside his discomfort with the complicated emotions and simply enjoyed Link’s easy acceptance. 

When he let him go, he asked Link, “Got it out of your system?” 

Link grinned. “Probably not.” A sudden burst of grief crossed Link’s face. “When we were in Kakariko, and you took me to that old village with graveyard...” 

Dark tugged at his hair. “Our dad was buried there,” he explained. “That’s where we were born, I think. It’s where the attack happened.” 

“Who attacked them?” Link asked, his frown deepening. “Who killed our parents?” 

Dark met his brother’s eyes. He couldn’t bear to set Link on the same path he walked. Link couldn’t be the Hero of Time if his heart was shadowed by vengeance as Dark’s was. “I don’t know.” The lie came easily. 

Link accepted that with a nod. He was too trusting. 

“I’m sorry,” Link said again. 

“Don’t be. There’s no changing it.” 

Link glanced back at him. “At least we have each other now.” 

Dark felt himself smiling. “Yeah. At least we do.”


	51. Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: We're almost done! Just a couple chapters left. There is a WARNING on this chapter for violence near the end.

Imara kept her breaths steady, measured. She would only have one chance. 

The castle was empty of guards. Those who had not been ordered out or sent away were dead or imprisoned, forgotten by their tyrannical king. Ganondorf’s erratic behaviour had grown once again. 

The few remaining Gerudo warriors were gathered behind Imara as she crept along the passageway. There was nothing left to do but flee. To rejoin her sisters in the desert and beg mercy. 

With the deaths of the witches, the spells placed on the Gerudo warriors who had grown rebellious to Ganondorf were broken. Imara and her fellow warriors were free, but they were by no means safe. Their king was a madman. 

“Almost there,” Imara whispered. A hand touched her arm, and she reached back to feel Aalrian’s fingers in the damp darkness. 

These tunnels, built centuries ago by Hylian royalty, were unfamiliar, but she knew they would lead them out. An escape plan for all those inside the castle. Her feet brushed something on the ground that rattled dully. Imara peered into the gloom—another skeleton. Too bad the escape strategy hadn’t worked to save those fleeing for their lives during Ganondorf’s first attack. His ghouls had popped up everywhere, even down here in the sewers. 

Imara steeled herself as the tunnel took another twist. They would keep moving forward. 

***** 

From the security of his chambers, Alatar watched the progress of the Gerudo women in the tunnels beneath the castle in the magic mirror. A gift that came in handy. 

He wouldn’t attempt to stop them. Their departure from their king’s side, the man to whom they owed their loyalty, only confirmed what he knew. Ganondorf had lost the support of his people. He’d lost control of his kingdom, and of himself. 

The man barely left the king’s chambers, seeing no one. His guards and servants had all fled, been sent away or killed by the king’s reckless orders. Ganondorf no longer cared that he inhabited an empty ruin of a castle, or that the people he ruled were rising in rebellion against him. That the land itself was in chaos. He only cared for the power the relic granted him—Alatar suspected it was the only thing keeping him alive. 

He wondered if Ganondorf realized how vulnerable he truly was. 

It mattered not. Soon, he would pluck from Ganondorf the very power he’d fought so hard to claim. Alatar would focus his attention on more useful pawns to achieve his goals, and let the shell remainder of the Gerudo king crumple. 

Murmuring under his breath, Alatar watched the mirror’s silver surface blur, erasing the image of the women. Settling, as smooth as glass, the mirror showed him his next target. 

**~oOo~**

The raucous cheers of the Gerudo filled the abandoned village square, accentuated by the clang of their swords and spears as they pounded rhythmically against their ornate shields. Inside the circle of revelers, Dark and Nabooru faced each other—Dark in his usual black tunic, pants and boots, wielding his strange-looking blade, Nabooru glowing like a setting sun with a golden-hilted sword and matching shield. 

Sitting on a rooftop for a better vantage point, Link watched his brother dodge a slash and retaliate with a strike to Nabooru’s chest. The crash of metal striking metal was heard when Dark’s blade bounced off the decorated shield. More cheers. 

They had arrived at the rendezvous point a few days ago, awaiting the arrival of Impa and her fighters. With little tree cover in the open plains of Hyrule Field, they camped in the abandoned village to provide some protection. 

The breeze brought Zelda’s light, airy scent, telling him she was there before her stealthy footfalls on the roof. Taking a seat next to him, she nodded at the show going on below. 

“Who’s winning?” 

“Not sure yet,” Link replied, offering her a slice of the apple he’d brought for a snack. 

Popping the piece into her mouth she shrugged. “They’re fairly well matched. Would you fight her?” she asked with a teasing nudge. 

Link winced when Nabooru landed a smart kick to Dark’s thigh, knocking him off balance and causing a fair bit of damage, if the look on his face was anything to go by. 

Link grinned. “I’m not so foolish as Dark.” 

She agreed with a laugh. Handing her another slice of fruit, Link studied her profile. He’d spent most of the days traveling or sparring with Dark and sometimes the Gerudo warriors. At night, the three Hylians dined with Nabooru and her warriors around the campfire, exchanging stories and jokes and enjoying themselves. It was a welcome reprieve from his troubled thoughts and the fight he knew was coming. 

During the days of travel, he’d ridden beside Zelda, hoping to catch her in conversation, but she’d been unusually quiet. These past few days in the village, he suspected she’d been avoiding him, busying herself somewhere in the camp while he spent time with his brother. 

Glancing at Dark, Link marveled again at the knowledge he had living family. It still seemed unreal. 

“You and Dark have been spending a lot of time together,” she remarked, sensing his thoughts. “It’s nice to see,” she added with a small smile. 

“It’s been really nice,” Link said, glancing back at her. “It reminds me of the days we spent in Castle Town.” 

Her eyes shuttered with sadness. “Happier times,” she agreed, a smile trying and failing to form on her lips. “They seem so far away now...” she trailed off, then winced guiltily. “Sorry, I suppose for you it wasn’t that long ago.” 

Link shrugged. “It wasn’t, but at the same time...I feel eons away from the boy I used to be.” 

Zelda’s hand slid over his shoulder and she squeezed gently. “It’s alright to miss that boy,” she murmured. “In a way, we’re doing all this for him. To return the world to how it should be.” 

Link nodded slowly. His worries wriggled back into his mind like weeds he couldn’t get rid of, darkening his mood. Bittersweet memories of the past melted under fear of the looming future. The sadness lying like a veil over his heart became needles of anxiety. A slight pressure against his shoulder caught his attention. Turning his head, his chin bumped Zelda’s head where she’d rested it against his shoulder. Her fingers reached for his between them, interlacing their hands and drawing them into her lap. 

“We will make this right again.” 

Her words were a promise, he knew. Not just for Hyrule, but for him. Link squeezed her hand, tilting his head until it rested against hers. He could feel the steady rhythm of her breathing, hear the slow beat of her heart. The wind teased wisps of her hair free from her braid. 

In the distance, the grey silhouette of Castle Town’s walls stood, waiting. It could wait a little longer, he thought. Link closed his eyes and let his mind stay in the present. 

******

Dark panted for breath, relishing the bout. His blood was hot, his muscles twitching, ready for another round. Nabooru had called for a pause, not wanting to overexert anyone. But Dark was impatient to keep going. Sparring, challenging himself, he felt in control again. It reinforced that he was in fighting shape. With every swing of the blade, Dark imagined he was sending a very clear message to Alatar and his devious shadows. 

Nabooru reached for a canteen of water, tipping it against her lips after gesturing for two of the Gerudo to take their place in the ring. Wiping her mouth, she offered it to Dark. 

“You’re not so bad,” she teased, punching him lightly in the shoulder. 

He chuckled and took a drink. “Thanks.” He nodded at her shield, edged with gold and rubies, bearing an artistic Gerudo design. “Very nice, by the way.” 

Nabooru hefted the shield so he could have a better look. “It may look pretty, but it’s quite hardy,” she said proudly. 

“Not unlike the wielder,” Dark teased back, winking. 

Nabooru tossed her head back with a laugh. “We really should have you come visit us,” she said. 

“If Gerudo goldsmiths can teach me how they make such beautiful weapons, then sure.” 

“Is that what you were before this, then? A smith?” 

Dark shrugged. “It was an option I was considering. Didn’t much care for bomb-crafting or any of the other odd jobs I had in Termina.” 

“Hmm. I suppose once our Ganondorf problem is taken care of, you’ll have plenty of choices to choose from.” She looked up, and a slow smile lit her face. “Or perhaps Princess Zelda will snatch you up for the Royal Hylian army.” 

Dark followed her line of sight to spot Link and Zelda on a rooftop across the square. He laughed. “I think she already has a swordsman.” 

Nabooru swung the shield on her back and tucked her blade into its loop on her belt. She opened her mouth to speak, but whatever reply she made was lost on Dark. A harsh whispering voice invaded his ears, speaking in a language he didn’t recognize. 

Seeing he was no longer paying attention, Nabooru nudged him. “Dark? Everything alright?” 

The whispering voice grew louder in his ears, unheard by those around him. Unwillingly, Dark’s hand tightened on _Deraphine_’s hilt, urging him to lift the blade, to strike... 

His gaze snapped to hers. “Yes. Excuse me.” Without a backward glance, he sheathed his sword and half-sprinted away from Nabooru and the other Gerudo. He hurried through the empty streets of the village, finding a storage shed that wasn’t being used. Slamming the door shut, he breathed heavily, leaning his weight against the wood. The whispering voice still wouldn’t shut up. He squeezed his eyes shut as his head started to ache, the pressure intensifying. 

_Dark...Dark...._

“_Quiet_,” he growled. 

_You will listen to me_, the voice demanded. _You will obey._

Dark inhaled a shaky breath. Alatar. He was trying to regain control. His fingers trembled where he’d braced them on the door. His head was ready to split open. 

Dark’s vision swam, then went completely black. Blinking, he tried to make sense of what was happening when the shroud lifted and he saw a new scene before him, though the sensation of the rough wood was still present under his palms. 

Alatar stood in a circular room, still whispering in that weird language, his hands held out before him. When the sorcerer lifted his head, his eyes were pools of ink in a pale, gaunt face. Tendrils of shadow twined around the man’s frame, draping over his outstretched arms, caressing his body. 

“You will do as I ask,” Alatar rasped, speaking with great effort. “Or she dies.” 

Sienna appeared at Alatar’s feet, unconscious, helpless. The shadows began moving in a frenzy, reaching down towards her, hovering over her prone body. 

“No!” Dark shouted. He couldn’t move. His body no longer obeyed his commands. 

“Take the Ocarina of Time,” Alatar hissed. “Take the Ocarina and go to the Temple of Time. Come back to me, submit yourself, and she goes free.” 

The vision ended abruptly, shoving Dark back into his body. He clenched his hands into fists, scraping them on the door. He breathed shakily, sliding down to the floor when his legs refused to support him. 

He couldn’t let her die. He wouldn’t. 

Even as he lay on the floor of the shack, forming his plan, Dark knew it was doomed to fail. No matter the outcome, it was unlikely he would survive this. Fierce’s warnings rang in his head, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t abandon Sienna. 

Dark prayed the goddesses were listening. He would need all the help he could get. And if by some miracle he did survive, Link would never forgive him. 

**~oOo~**

Dark waited until everyone had gone to bed for the night, for the camp to be quiet save for the first guard shift observing their rounds. He slipped from his bed, dressing in the darkness, strapping on his sword. Outside was quiet save for the faraway sounds of footfalls from the guards. 

He could have used his abilities to sneak into the house where Link was sleeping, but he wanted to conserve every drop of magic he had. Moving carefully, Dark opened the door and crossed to Link’s rucksack, methodically sifting through it until he found what he needed. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw Link’s sleeping form, Navi curled up in his hat next to his pillow. As much as this betrayal of Link’s trust pained him, he couldn’t second-guess himself. Nor could he reach over and shake his brother awake, ask him to come with him. 

Sending a silent apology Link’s way, Dark slipped back outside and walked a short distance away until he reached the dry village well. A new moon meant the blackness of the night hid everything, smothered the soft musical notes he played on the Ocarina. 

As the notes echoed, Dark quickly placed the instrument on the well’s rough stone ledge, where Link would see it in the morning. The magic he’d invoked swirled around him, enveloping him in light so bright he closed his eyes to shield them. 

When the sensation of weightlessness and the tingling aftereffects of warping left him, he stood in the Temple of Time. 

As a child, he hadn’t ventured inside the Temple more than a few times. At night, torches were usually lit to welcome those seeking the guidance of the Goddesses or a place of solitude and reflection. Tonight, the hall was still and cold. 

Flipping the hood of his long cloak over his head, Dark pushed open the heavy wooden door, scanning the outside courtyard and gardens. As he walked through Castle Town, he was surprised to see it as empty and abandoned as the temple. The road to Hyrule Castle was desolate, the entry gates missing, the guard towers smashed to rubble. 

The castle itself was grey and hunched in its defeat, a parody of its formerly grand state. Walking into the enormous entrance hall for the first time, Dark felt he was missing the true impact of such a place. 

Dust shadowed the huge staircase steps and balustrade. The floors and walls were bare to the stone. It was simply another empty home, another abandoned place. 

Dark tried to imagine the missing pieces—the servants rushing through the halls line with portraits, paintings and tapestries of history, myth and story. Courtiers’ laughter and conversation drifting from the ballroom during a feast. Guards in gleaming silver armour at their posts. 

Alatar’s whispering voice had returned, directing him where to go. Climbing the steps, Dark kept one hand on _Deraphine_, alert and waiting. But there was nothing. 

He knew he was close to Alatar’s chambers when dark magic slithered over his skin, causing goosebumps to rise. Inside the east tower, Dark found the chamber from his earlier vision, with Alatar and Sienna waiting for him. 

She sat, still in shackles, in the centre of the room. It was bare save for torches mounted on the walls. Alatar stood behind her, his heavy robes engulfing him, his gaze sharp and hawkish. 

“You’ve finally arrived,” Alatar rasped. 

Dark didn’t take his eyes off Sienna. Too frightened to speak, she stared wide-eyed back at him, relief and fear showing on her face. 

“Get on with it,” a man’s voice growled. 

Dark saw now the figure keeping himself hidden in the shadows behind Alatar. He moved into the circle of light cast by the torches, and Dark tried to suppress a gasp as he laid eyes on his parents’ killer. 

Ganondorf was a giant of a man, strong and muscular. With a proud face, sneering lips and predatory eyes. He wore the guise of a king, with a blood-red cape hanging off his black epaulettes. His armour was well-worn, battle-hardened, as he was. Despite his size he moved with the controlled grace of a warrior. 

Ganondorf’s eyes burned with hatred as he looked at Dark. “He looks just like his father,” he remarked, his mouth curling in disgust. 

Grief slashed at the wound in Dark’s heart, salted by anger as he glared at his father’s murderer. Dark’s fist clenched on _Deraphine_, but he made no move to attack. 

Alatar began moving his hands, murmuring an incantation in a low voice. Shadowy arms rose from the floor at Dark’s feet, latching on to his wrists and forcing him to his knees. They wrenched away his weapons, leaving him defenseless. 

Alatar stepped closer to Sienna, drawing his attention. From his robes, the sorcerer produced the sinister blade he’d used on Dark in the Tower of Winds, holding its lethal edge to Sienna’s throat. Gasping, she tried to flinch away. Alatar seized her hair in a tight fist, drawing her head back and exposing her vulnerable neck. 

Dark struggled against the magical bonds, but Alatar pressed the blade hard into Sienna’s skin. A drop of red beaded on the metal. Dark immediately halted his struggles. 

The sorcerer gave him a twisted smile. “I’ve learned how useful fear can be,” he said, observing Dark. “Self-preservation is an amazing instinct, especially when motivated by fear. Yet you become all too self-sacrificing when you fear for someone you care for.” 

The dark magic he’d felt earlier began to press in on him. Sink into him. Dark braced himself against the pull of Alatar’s magic, his desire for possession. The pressure in his head pounded against his skull, the mark on his chest began to throb as arcs of white-hot pain seared through him. 

Bound by the shadows, Dark gritted his teeth against the growing pain. The shadows crawled over him, into him, eating him alive. The shadows found his weak spot, the curse scar on his chest. Dark doubled over, howling with agony as the shadows seemed to rip into him, prying open his heart. 

“Stop fighting it,” Alatar hissed, his knuckles white on the knife’s handle. “Or she dies.” 

“Dark,” Sienna choked. Tears streamed down her face, leaving tracks through the dirt on her cheeks. 

He wanted to close his eyes, he wanted to tell her to look away. Every ounce of focus went into resisting the curse, into not giving in. He knew what Alatar would ask him to do. 

_Hurt her...kill her...obey me._

Still fighting the curse, Dark’s body struggled to obey the commands of Alatar. His fingers scratched at the floor, trying to drag him towards Sienna. The shadow-manacles loosened their hold, and Dark flung himself away from Alatar, scrabbling for his sword. Fresh waves of pain struck him, leaving him breathless. 

“Dark!” Sienna was sobbing now, calling out to him. 

Alatar was muttering again, his voice an angry hiss. Dark struggled to his knees, facing Alatar and Ganondorf. He locked eyes with the tyrant king. 

“I will kill you,” he promised, his breath coming in pants. 

Ganondorf smirked. Dark lunged, breaking free of the shadows long enough to reach out of his hands to strike Ganondorf. Something yanked him backwards, and he crashed to the floor. 

Through Ganondorf’s dark laughter, he heard a new order: _Take it from him. Steal the piece._

Pain radiated through his entire body, but Dark found himself on his feet, the curse directing him. He felt stronger, powerful. With the dark magic inside him, he was invincible. Faster than he’d thought possible, Dark was in front of Ganondorf again. 

Lifting his fist, Ganondorf released a wave of energy. It hit Dark in the chest, sending him crashing into the opposite wall. His ribs broke, his head rattled from the force, yet the curse didn’t release him. It forced his body forward again. 

This time, when Ganondorf raised his hand, Dark saw the glowing light on the back of his hand. The Triforce of Power. 

_Take it_, Alatar urged. _Take the power._

Dark seized Ganondorf’s wrist, and the shadows leapt to tie them together. Ganondorf tried to pull back, but the dark magic held him captive, joining their hands. The Triforce symbol glowed still more brightly, fighting off the attack from the curse. 

Ganondorf turned to his sorcerer, realizing his plan. 

“You traitor,” the king hissed. “You think it is so easy to take away my power?” 

Alatar, having released Sienna to focus on strengthening his hold over Dark, sneered back. “I gave you your power. You are no longer of any use to me.” 

The struggle between the force of Power and the grasp of the curse formed a magical barrier around Dark and Ganondorf. The king tried to push Dark away, but the curse had taken hold, forcing Dark to keep fighting though his strength was giving way. Dark watched as if outside himself as Ganondorf gritted his teeth, the Triforce’s glow throwing harsh shadows across his face. 

As the curse took control, he felt himself slipping back into oblivion. Dark tried to turn his head to Sienna. If he could see her, he could fight it a little longer. Maybe long enough. 

“Would you take the Triforce of Power?” 

Dark whirled in the other direction. A tall, red-haired woman watched the struggle between him and Ganondorf. Her muscular arms were crossed over her chest, her long hair swept back into a ponytail, highlighting bold, beautiful features. Her dark eyes were fixed on where he gripped Ganondorf’s forearm, the shadows twisting, writhing, fighting against the glow emitting from the back of the king’s hand. 

Her presence seemed to make time move more slowly. As if he moved through water, their joined hands vibrated from the energy surrounding them. 

She lifted her gaze to meet his, awaiting an answer to her question. Ganondorf was unaware of their visitor, for he kept his attention on their conflict. Alatar continued to mumble, trying to increase the effects of the curse. 

“I don’t want it,” he told the woman. “I won’t take it.” 

When she uncrossed her arms, the golden bands she wore around her biceps glinted. Stepping forward, she aimed a glare at Ganondorf. 

“Not everyone understands what Power really is,” she told Dark. “It needs to be protected by someone who does.” 

An image flickered through his mind of Sheik, unconscious, the back of his right hand glowing brightly, just as Ganondorf’s did. One of the Triforce pieces. 

“You want me to protect it?” he asked her, disbelieving. At her enigmatic stare, Dark shook his head. “No. I can't.” 

He glanced at Ganondorf, his expression full of rage, his features drawn, exhausted from prolonged exposure to dark magic. His desire for the Triforce had driven him to slaughter, to destroy. To siphon yet more power in any way possible, even at the expense of his own life force. Dark was already corrupted by the shadowy curse. And Alatar wanted him to seize the Triforce of Power, so he could control it through Dark. 

Who knew what he would do with the power of the goddesses? 

“I can't let him have it,” Dark said, grunting when another sharp bite of pain erupted in his chest. Apparently slowing down time didn’t take that away. 

“If you do not, you cannot hope to break this curse.” 

Hope burst in Dark’s chest. “It can break the curse?” 

Slowly, she nodded. She held out her hand to him, palm open. “Accept a small piece of my power,” she pleaded. “And it will change the outcome.” 

Dark hesitated. He moved his hand towards her, but his fears held him back. As if sensing the grab for power, the shadows slithered down his other arm, too, ready to latch onto her. 

“Take it,” she urged, uncaring of the threat. “All you need is a piece.” 

Grasping her hand, Dark was surprised to see his own pass right through it as if she were a ghost. Holding his hand level with hers, he could feel the waves of energy she emanated. The shadows began to recoil, shrinking away from her. 

With her free hand, she touched the leather gauntlet covering Ganondorf’s right arm. A surge of pure energy rocketed up Dark’s left arm. The pain in his chest amplified until he thought it would break him open, but he held on to her. 

Golden light surrounded the three of them in a halo, and it chased away the shadows still clinging to him. The agony caused by the curse began to recede, and Dark felt only the incredible, strength and vitality granted by the golden light. 

_“NO!”_

Ganondorf’s burning gaze was fixed on the woman’s face. He ripped free of her grasp, his lip curling in a snarl. The connection broken, Dark flew backwards, colliding with the stone wall. Stunned, Dark let himself slide to the floor and tried blinked to clear his vision. 

The woman had vanished. Alatar was staring at Ganondorf in shock and fear. 

The king turned to the sorcerer, lifting his fist to show him the symbol of the Triforce of Power, still illuminated. Dark blinked again. Was it dimmer than before? 

“You thought it would be so easy?” Ganondorf spat. “I will not forget this, Alatar.” 

Sneering, Alatar seemed to recover from his shock. He glanced at Dark, who was struggling to his feet. 

“For your failure,” Alatar hissed at him. He stepped forward, snatching Sienna by the hair. She cried out when the sorcerer yanked her head back, exposing the vulnerable column of her throat. The knife was clutched in his thin fingers. 

Dark lunged forward and tripped on unsteady legs. He collapsed a few feet short of her, reaching out to her. Alatar didn’t hesitate. 

Hot blood sprayed Dark’s face and chest. Sienna dropped to the floor, her pale face frozen, her eyes too wide. Alatar warped, vanishing in an instant. Dark crawled to Sienna, lifting her into his embrace. 

“Sienna.” His voice came out hoarse. His head pounded. Pushing the hair from her face, he felt the sobs shaking him when he saw her wide-open eyes, staring sightlessly. 

Her throat had been ripped open, splashing the front of her dress in red. Her hands lay limply at her sides, fingertips trailing on the floor. 

Pressing his forehead to hers, Dark let out a howling scream. She was slight in his arms, and he held on still more tightly, a steady stream of tears tracking down his face. 

A metallic ring sharpened his senses. He looked up from Sienna. Ganondorf, watching with cool indifference, had drawn his sword. 

As he advanced, Dark cradled Sienna against him, meeting those hateful eyes. 

“The witches warned me,” Ganondorf rasped, stopping just in front of Dark. “Of a Hylian soldier who would be my undoing.” The king scoffed. “He wounded me once, during a battle. When his helmet was removed, I knew he was the one.” Ganondorf’s fists tightened on the hilt of his weapon. 

“Though he’s dead, he continues to haunt me. The prophecy has changed.” Ganondorf’s voice changed, was barely more than a whisper. His gaze was focused on Dark, cold and merciless, but he was staring into the past. “I see his offspring coming to finish what was started. One from the shadows...one from the forest.” 

Ganondorf lifted his greatsword like an executioner, its broad edge more a hammer than a blade. Dark tucked Sienna’s head under his chin, his bloody hand staining her hair. 

He refused to look away from Ganondorf. His eyes were no longer the same as his father’s, but he hoped the tyrant saw every trace of Naron in Dark’s features. He hoped it haunted him. 

With a shout, Ganondorf swung the enormous sword, the Triforce on his hand emitting a faint glow. Instinctively, Dark raised his left hand to protect himself. A halo of light burst from his outstretched hand, halting Ganondorf’s attack. 

Shock painted itself across his face as he was forced back, unable to harm Dark. 

“What is this!?” he roared, glaring at Dark in accusation. 

Dark gaped at his hand, at the mark of the Triforce of Power there, flickering feebly. The mark was incomplete, showing only a tiny part of the topmost triangle. The Triforce’s power was a weak strain, twining itself along the magical energy in his body. It was enough. 

Dark commanded every drop of magic he had remaining into one single thought: escape. Responding to his wish, the Triforce offered him just enough power to warp. Shivers broke out on his skin and he pictured in his mind the first place—the safest place—he could think of. 

Ganondorf’s roar echoed in Dark’s ears as he clutched Sienna’s body tightly, letting the Triforce’s power take over as the tower’s stone walls melted into nothingness.


	52. Moonless

_Snowhead Mountains _

Soft grass was the first thing Dark knew. His knees rested in the grass, cool and wet. The predawn air was chilly and heavy. 

Gently, he lowered Sienna’s body, smoothing her long hair from her cheeks. He grimaced when it left behind bloody streaks. He stripped off his ruined shirt, unbuckled the sheath at his hip. 

Standing up, he moved to kneel at the nearby creek, splashing the water on his face, scrubbing his hands until they were red and raw. Once he was clean, Dark turned and walked to the cottage, now empty. When he went inside, a fresh wave of tears clawed up his throat. Working quickly, he grabbed a bucket of water, a cloth and a clean sheet. 

Sienna rested in the grass, her eyes closed, her hair tangled around her head. Kneeling next to her, Dark wrung out the cloth and very carefully cleaned her hair and face of blood. He dabbed at the awful wound on her neck, tried to swipe the blood from her the bodice of her dress. 

Dark paused, pressing his fist against his mouth. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. 

Dawn was breaking over the peaks when he’d finished. Sienna wore a simple dress he’d found in her bedroom in the cottage. Her hair was damp and clean. Carrying her in his arms, Dark jumped into the grave he’d spent the morning digging a short distance from the house, lowering her in. 

Letting out a shaky breath, Dark forced himself to leave her side, to climb out of the grave. A pressure was building itself inside him, waiting for a moment of weakness before it burst. Dark shoved it down and tried to think of something meaningful to do. 

Most people in Hyrule worshipped the three Goddesses to some degree. Some were more faithful, more devoted, than others. It was a comfort to some. Those in Termina who worshipped the Goddesses were fewer, but just as dedicated. 

Faith wasn’t something Dark had ever put much effort into. He saw no point in praying. 

Sienna’s favourite prayer was a simple one—she'd often recited it in the morning, asking her Goddesses for a blessing, for guidance and protection. 

Dark knew no other prayers by memory, so he spoke Sienna’s favourite aloud for her. He hoped it was enough. 

When he’d finished burying Sienna, he found a rock big enough to act as a temporary headstone and draped the vial of medicines around his neck over its width. 

Walking back to the cottage, Dark closed the door behind him and stumbled numbly through the quiet interior until he reached his old bedroom. It was just as he’d left it; the small bed with the quilted comforter Sienna had made unrumpled. The morning light made the dust in the air glow like fireflies. Curling up on the bed, Dark let the dam inside him break wide open. 

**~oOo~ **

_Hyrule Field _

“Where are we going?” Link asked. 

Zelda took his hand in hers. “Just a bit further,” she replied, tugging him along. 

The camp was quieting down for the night, with many of the Gerudo heading for bed early in preparation for the next day, when they would meet with Impa and her forces. Dark had already turned in for the night as well. Link had planned to do the same, before Zelda had shown up at his door, asking him to come with her. 

They wandered through the village, eventually wandering to the outskirts. They hopped a bordering fence into the tall grass. Zelda’s hair was muted without the shine of moonlight. She moved with almost no sound, just the soft shushing of the grass as it brushed against her. 

She stopped when they reached the top of a hill with a perfect view of Castle Town, an indistinct mass in the distance. Twin specks of light winked at them—torches showing the way to the drawbridge. 

“I thought we could sit here for a while,” Zelda said, tucking her legs under and sitting down in the grass. 

Link followed her lead, looking out towards the castle. 

“It reminds me why we’re doing all this,” she said. “Even in the sad state it's in now...there’s still hope for a better future.” 

They sat in silence, both contemplating what the next day would bring. Zelda twisted to face him, her hands in her lap. 

“I wanted to give you something,” she told him. “Before the battle tomorrow.” 

Link turned to face her, waiting expectantly. Zelda lifted her hands from her lap, holding them palms up. Closing her eyes, she focused, and Link felt the familiar whoosh of magic hitting him. White light flashed from her palms, blinding, then disappeared. In her hands she held a half dozen golden arrows. Larger and sharper than average, they were beautifully adorned with carved designs. 

“There are Light arrows,” Zelda explained, letting him lift one to examine it. “They will weaken Ganondorf.” She smiled at him. “They’re my gift to you.” 

Link took the arrow from her, running his finger over the flared fletching, reminiscent of a fairy’s wings. Tomorrow at the battle, Zelda would be well protected by Impa and others to guard her, keep her safe until she was able to take back control of the throne. Link would be far away, fighting his way to Ganondorf. Now, in a way, Zelda would be at his side during the final battle. 

Placing the arrows in the grass between them, Link scooted closer and reached for her hands. “Thank you,” he murmured, tilting his head towards hers. 

She smiled again, meeting his eyes. Her fingers stroked over hands, slow and soothing. Even in the darkness, he could see her pupils dilating, the green-blue hue of her irises bright. Without thinking, Link cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking over her cheeks, her jaw. 

He wasn’t certain whether he moved first or she did, or maybe they’d leaned in at the same moment, drawn together by some unspoken command. Their lips met in a slow, tentative kiss. Her skin was soft beneath his fingertips, warm against the cooler air. Her mouth even more so, if it were possible. A soft, sweet pressure that sent shivers racing over his spine. 

Her fingers traveled over the breadth of his shoulders, pulling him in closer. She broke their contact for a brief pause, then realigned them and she was kissing him again. Trailing his fingertips over the smooth skin of her slim neck, Link never wanted to stop. Some piece of him recognized the ephemeral nature of the kiss and longed to savor it, to hold onto it. 

Too many seconds too soon, she gently leaned back, ending the kiss. 

“We should head back,” Zelda whispered. Her fingers toyed with the ties of his shirt at his neck. 

“Okay.” He ran his hand over his head, ruffling the hair at the back. Link slowly eased away, holding his palm out for her to take. 

Zelda took it and they stood up from the grass, taking the bundle of Light arrows with them. Hand in hand, they walked side by side back to the camp. Sneaking a look at her, Link saw a little smile on her pink lips, a faint blush on her cheeks. When she stopped outside the house where she was sleeping, she hesitated a second, then lifted on her toes to place a quick, feathery kiss on his cheek. 

She dropped back down and let go of his hand. “Goodnight, Link,” she whispered. 

“Goodnight, Zelda,” he said back, waiting until the door closed on her smiling face. 

Someone had hollowed out his organs and pumped them full of air. His footsteps didn’t seem to touch ground. Walking back to the vacant house he was sharing with Dark, Link tapped his fingertip against his mouth, recalling the tingling electricity of his kiss with Zelda. It was muted now, as if only the memory remained there to taunt him. 

The door creaked open and Link found his way in the blackness. The moon was missing tonight, and the barely discernible shapes in the room were the two beds, their gear and Dark’s sleeping form. He navigated by the soft bluish glow of Navi’s wings. She slept on, curled in his hat. 

Link stripped off his shirt and boots and lay down on the bed under the window. 

Sleep was slow to come, as he didn’t want to just yet. Waking tomorrow meant rising to face his destiny. Finally taking on the final task. Facing the final battle. 

And he wasn’t quite ready. Link rolled to his side, facing the window to see the star-studded ebony sky. Tomorrow could wait. 

He would hold on a moment longer to tonight.


	53. The King of Evil

Power surged through Ganondorf. It built not only his physical strength but his will, his vision. 

The Triforce of Power was greater than he’d ever imagined. It read his innermost thoughts, his innermost desires, and revealed the path to shaping them into reality. Showed him how it was possible to alter reality altogether. 

Inside the castle’s throne room, Ganondorf faced the smashed windows, the remains of Castle Town in the valley. He knew they were coming to take his throne, his kingdom, his power. His world. 

The immense magical ability he harnessed, as always, responded to his desires and began to manifest. Storm clouds formed above the castle’s highest spires, blackening the sky. 

Ganondorf looked around the grand throne room, left in its state of destruction. He wanted to completely abolish Hyrule Castle. Remake it in his own image. As he would remold the entire world in his will. 

The storm grew, completely engulfing the castle. The winds howled; the lightning cracked the air. It sought him out, swirling about him in a torrent of chaos. Ganondorf relished the energy of the storm, the steady thrum in his veins. 

It was time to test the true power of the Triforce. 

**~oOo~ **

Hyrule’s resistance forces were even bigger than Link had imagined. 

Stretching across Hyrule Field were hundreds of tents, a handful of them bearing the flags of the Hylian Royal Family. Soldiers in gleaming silver mingled with gorons in heavy grey armour and rebel fighters in leather and chainmail. Zoras bearing bone-white weapons and minimal armour converged around a half dozen tents in the southwest corner, guarding the zora physicians marked by bright blue tunics. 

Link and Zelda rode side by side with the company of Gerudo warriors, a swath of red and gold on the plain. As they descended a hill and into the valley, a chorus of cheers wafted up from the crowd. 

The soldiers, what remained of the Hylian Royal Army, knelt with their fists pressed to their hearts as Zelda passed. She acknowledged them with a regal nod of her head, but Link saw the gratitude and pride pricking tears behind her eyes. Glancing askance at him, she saw him watching her and lifted a hand to tuck a wisp of hair around her ear with a small smile. 

The zoras greeted them politely but with barely contained smiles, some of them waving. The gorons cheered raucously, a few familiar faces coming up to give Link friendly slaps on the back. The fighters recruited from Kakariko and other areas of Hyrule who had come to help were gathered in a cluster with a few of Hyrule’s knights, testing weapons to suit them. Link spotted Fayne and Taver, the smith, and gave them a wave when they beamed at him. 

Impa emerged from the northernmost tent, escorted by two knights. The Gerudo fighters dismounted and followed Impa’s guards to rest their horses and grab some fresh water and food. Impa stepped forward as Zelda swung down from her horse, wrapping her charge in a tight, motherly embrace. Zelda clung to her guardian; eyes squeezed shut tight. Link and Nabooru held back, giving them space, and a soldier came forward to take the reins of their mounts. 

“I’ve missed you,” Zelda murmured. 

Impa stroked a hand over Zelda’s hair, braided into an artful knot at the back of her head. “I’m so glad you’re safe.” 

Zelda looked more like the princess she had once been. That morning, instead of donning her Sheikah disguise, she had put on a simple dress with a riding tunic overtop for the day’s journey. Underneath was golden jewelry borrowed from Nabooru adorned her neck, ears and waist. On her arms she wore elbow-length riding gloves. 

She’d removed the riding tunic shortly before they’d arrived, explaining in a somewhat embarrassed whisper to Link that it was important to appear to be a strong, regal leader when meeting the army that had pledged to fight for her. 

When the two broke apart, Impa beckoned Link, Zelda and Nabooru into her tent with a quick gesture. The tent was partitioned in half, so Link and Nabooru sat at the table and helped themselves to food and drink while Zelda used the other side to change her clothes. Impa remained at the tent’s entrance, speaking to some of the knights for an update. 

When Zelda joined them at the table, Link’s jaw nearly dropped. She now wore a light, sleeveless dress, belted at the waist and accented by gold. From the belt hung a long banner bearing the Hylian Royal crest. Around her shoulders and neck was another gold piece, hiding the neck of the gown. Her hair she had brushed back and half-tied at the back, so it hung down in blonde waves. On her hands were long, silk gloves. 

She now looked every bit the princess Link remembered, and the one her people were fighting for. 

“You look lovely,” Nabooru said, smiling at her as she sat down gracefully. 

Zelda glanced at Link with a quick smile, reaching for the plate of food. “Thank you,” she said to Nabooru, then, “And thank the goddesses; I’m starving.” 

Impa came to sit between Link and Nabooru. “At last everyone is here and settled in,” she said with a sigh. “Thank you for your haste, Nabooru.” 

Nabooru waved the piece of bread she’d just taken a bite of. “Hopefully I’ve brought enough warriors to suit your plan, Impa. I’m still missing the girls inside Hyrule Castle under Ganondorf’s thumb.” 

Impa’s mouth twisted with wry amusement. “Which reminds me,” she said, nodding towards the tent entrance. “We have visitors.” 

Two Gerudo women stepped into the tent, their faces apprehensive. Nabooru, spotting them, dropped the food and shot to her feet. 

“Aalrian! Imara!” she exclaimed, greeting them in their shared language. She added in Hylian, “What’s happened at the castle? How did you escape?” 

While the Gerudo women talked with Nabooru, Impa leaned close to Link. 

“I can’t help but notice Dark isn’t with you,” she remarked. 

Link froze, exchanging a look with Zelda, who squeezed his hand sympathetically. 

“Dark was missing when I woke up this morning,” he explained a low voice. “I found the Ocarina of Time was missing as well, until I recovered it outside of the house Dark and I were bunking in.” 

Impa’s gaze was steady, but she inhaled and exhaled slowly. “I see. Is the Ocarina safe?” 

“Yes,” Link said. He stared down at Zelda’s hand wrapped around his own. 

The worry that had been gnawing at his stomach all day returned full force. Dark’s sudden disappearance was heart-wrenching. If he had used the Ocarina to warp, there were only two choices. Dark had heard Zelda play only two of the magical songs at the Colossus—and it was unlikely Dark had returned to the desert. 

Which meant he had done something incredibly stupid and gone to face Ganondorf on his own. 

Impa had deduced as much herself. “He’s a fool to take Ganondorf on alone,” she said. “If he went to save Sienna, why not wait one more day for all of us to go with him?” 

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Link agreed. 

Zelda looked guiltily at Link, releasing his hand to press her palms together between her knees. “I may know,” she said quietly. “Dark confided in me, while you were gone, Link. Ganondorf is the one who killed your parents. I believe he may have gone to avenge them.” 

Stunned silence echoed her words. The new information washed over Link. 

“Ganondorf...he killed my parents?” Shock, grief and anger burned through him, each emotion fleeting but sharpened by fear for his newfound brother. “He told me he didn’t know who murdered our parents,” Link said, accusation lacing his tone. 

Impa sighed. “People do unwise things to protect the ones they love,” she said sympathetically. “He may have thought he was acting in your best interests, but he is blinded by grief and fear.” 

“You should have let me go after him this morning,” Link snapped at Zelda. 

“It wouldn’t have helped,” she said gently. “I know you’re scared for him, but you can’t follow him into danger alone. Our best chance of success is to work together.” 

Link sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. He felt helpless. It felt silly to sit here in a tent and strategize. Not long ago he’d been dreading the coming battle, to have to rush in and take Ganondorf on. Now he would gladly face the tyrant king one on one if it meant saving his brother. 

“Once I’ve gathered all the leaders, I can lay out our plan of attack and prepare everyone,” Impa told him. “I promise it won’t be long now. You and Zelda should eat, and rest before that.” 

Reluctantly, Link allowed Zelda to lead him away, leaving their empty spots at the table to Imara and Aalrian. They left Impa’s tent and walked to a neighbouring one. Like the first, it was divided into two sleeping quarters. 

“You stay here, I’ll go sleep in Impa’s tent,” Zelda offered, releasing his arm. 

“I can’t sleep,” Link sighed. “Not now.” 

“You should try,” she urged him. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

Link reached up for her hand, rubbing his thumb in slow circles over her glove. “Will you stay with me?” 

Surprised, Zelda stared at him, then her expression softened. “Alright,” she murmured. 

Removing her belt, gloves, boots and jewelry, she set them aside on the floor and lay down on the bedroll. They lay facing each other, a few inches between them, their noses almost touching. 

“Try to sleep,” she said again, her voice still soft. 

“I will,” he promised. 

Link searched for her hand, now bare, and entwined their fingers between them. He gently stroked his thumb over her skin. Eventually, her breaths became slow and even, her eyes closed, her dark blonde lashes feathered over her cheeks. 

He studied her face until he could no longer keep his eyes open. 

******** **

It was late afternoon when they woke, so they hurried to redress and gather their things. 

They strolled through the camp, winding their way back to Impa’s tent to meet with the other rebellion leaders. Waiting at the entrance, Impa spotted them and waved them over. 

The sun was snuffed out. The sky darkened as if night had fallen unexpectedly. Overhead, black storm clouds were gathering in the northern sky, approaching faster than any natural storm. The thunderclouds billowed, touching down on the ground, rolling over the plains of Hyrule Field, coming towards the camp. 

Zelda’s sharp breath alerted Link. 

“It’s just like my dream,” she whispered. “It’s coming true.” 

Impa and the other leaders came rushing out of the tent, alarmed by the roaring wave of the storm. The camp, shaking free of its stun, launched into action. Impa hurried towards them in the chaos, her crimson eyes wide with fear. 

The storm hit the camp, throwing tents, supplies and people with gale force winds. There was no rain, but it brought with it a shaking of the earth so intense Link and Zelda were thrown off their feet. 

Zelda cried out in alarm. In the confusion, Link reached for Zelda’s hand but couldn’t find her. 

A flash of light momentarily blinded him, and he covered his eyes. As abruptly as it had started, the storm halted. Opening his eyes, Link saw he and Zelda were trapped in its eye, the black, ominous clouds continuing to swirl about them. 

Zelda rose to her feet, took a step towards him, and then stopped. Shocked, she pressed her palms flat against some invisible barrier. Link rushed to her, watching as a crystalline barrier encased her, lifting her off the ground. 

Her panicked eyes met his through the shield. “Link!” 

Pounding his fists against the barrier, Link grunted in frustration. Unsheathing the Master Sword, he considered the best way to strike without accidentally injuring her. Before he could, a voice he recognized sounded in his ears. From the icy dread on Zelda’s face, she could hear it too. 

Ganondorf’s voice sounded in the storm’s eye, audible to only the two of them. 

“Princess Zelda...at last I’ve found you.” His mocking laughter echoed in their ears. “The remaining two pieces have found each other. How fortunate for me.” 

The crystal prison rose, hovering in the air. Link looked up, meeting Zelda’s fearful gaze. In a blink, the crystal vanished. 

“If you want to rescue your beloved princess,” Ganondorf’s voice sneered. “Come to my castle!” 

The storm dispelled, revealing the chaos of the rebellion camp. Link felt his knees hitting the grass, his fingers wrapped around the hilt of the Master Sword. 

“Link!” Impa’s hand landed on his shoulder. “What happened!?” 

Link stared at the spot where Zelda had disappeared. “Ganondorf,” he said through a throat as dry as sandpaper. “He took her.” 

**~oOo~**

The rebellion forces of Hyrule smashed through Castle Town’s gates. 

The biggest and strongest gorons had brought it down with the force of a landslide, rolling into the city and crushing the first wave of Ganondorf’s minions. 

Legions of stalfos, wolfos, moblins and other creatures of darkness under his control swarmed the city, ready for the fight. Leading the charge after the first gorons were Link and the other Sages, Impa, Darunia and Nabooru. 

They pushed onto the central square, where an army of stalfos awaited them. 

“Get to the castle, Link!” Impa shouted, her katana slicing effortlessly through a stalfos. 

Gorons, Gerudo and Hylians rushed into the city after them, clearing the way. Link hacked his way through the fray, focused only on reaching the north road. Around him the battle boomed, the cries of his allies ringing over the striking of metal. 

A pair of stalfos blocked his way, but the Master Sword’s blade sheared through them. Heart pounding, blood singing in his veins, Link kicked open the second gate and ran up the north road. 

Link raced up the hill towards Hyrule Castle. The ground was black with ash, disrupted and torn up from the previous battle and the storm Ganondorf had sent. As he rounded the bend in the road, Link jerked to a stop. 

The castle was gone. In its place was a huge crater, its depths filled with roiling lava. 

A wicked black fortress floated on an island above the lava. Its six black spires twisted at the top to support the seventh column in the centre, protecting it. 

Link walked to the edge of the crater, feeling the intense heat on his skin, smelling the ash in the air. There was no way across. Ganondorf’s defenses were impenetrable. 

_Link...Link, can you hear me?_

Link started. Rauru’s voice was calling to him, so quiet and fleeting he thought at first he’d imagined it. Telepathy was new to Link, but Zelda had told him it required incredible concentration. Link glared at the formidable black tower. Zelda was inside somewhere, held prisoner by Ganondorf. He would reach her. 

Link closed his eyes on focused on the invisible connection to the Chamber of Sages. He imagined it as a thread of light, traversing the space between him in the Light World and the Temple of Light in the world beyond, passing on his message. 

_I can hear you, Rauru._

_Link...the Sages and I will use our power to help you across. Inside the tower are six magical barriers. Destroy them with the Light Arrows given to you by Zelda, and free our princess!_

One by one, the Sages responded to the summons of the Sage of Light. 

_Link, I grant you the protection of Light._

On the battlefield, Impa heard the call. Retreating from the fight, she adopted a meditative pose to concentrate. Like her, Darunia and Nabooru stepped away from the fight to divert some of their Sages’ power. 

_I grant the Hero of Time the service of Shadow. _

_The strength of the spirits of Fire is yours, Brother!_

_Me and my blade are in your corner, kid. _

Within the Chamber of Sages, Ruto and Saria followed Rauru’s example, lending their strength and power to ensure the Hero’s success. 

_The element of Water is yours, Link. _

__

__

_Link...I will always have faith in you._

The Sages’ medallions Link held appeared before him, circling one another in the air. Little by little, they dissolved into speckles of coloured light and began to fall like snowflakes over the chasm. 

As they fell, they reformed into a solid surface, creating an arching, rainbow bridge from Link’s side of the crater to the edge of Ganondorf’s tower. 

Tentatively, Link stepped out onto the translucent bridge, amazed when the delicate structure didn’t give way. Confident it would hold, Link sprinted across the lava pit and charged into the tower. 

As Rauru said, each of the spires contained a magical barrier—a column of living magical energy, defending the central tower where Ganondorf waited. 

Using the Light arrows, Link dispelled each one, battling his way through the creatures of evil Ganondorf summoned to stop him. The Master Sword cut through every monster, its pristine blade glowing with blue fire as it vanquished the darkness. 

With the barriers dispelled, Link began to climb the central tower, step by step, room by room. 

Near the top was a spiralling stairway. The outer wall was lined with tall, rectangular iron-wrought windows. Through them cool light from the waxing moon sprayed onto the steps, covered with a thick, blood-red carpet that muted Link’s footfalls. 

The large, elaborate torches that had lined the previous rooms and passages were absent here, so Link climbed in near-darkness, always looking up and towards the bend in the stairs. 

Rounding the final curve, Link came to a broad, reinforced door. Without a sound, it swung open to grant him entrance. Slowly, Link stepped into the cavernous room beyond. 

A tiled ceiling topped floor-to-ceiling stained glass windows that surrounded the room. Between each one was a carving of an eagle, wings outstretched, talons ready to lunge in for the kill. 

The king of evil sat upon his throne, relaxed, assured. He wore heavy black leather Gerudo armour, a red cape attached at the shoulders. His crimson hair was long and loose at his nape, offsetting the deep colour of his skin, the golden gleam of his eyes. Above his head, Zelda was held in her crystal prison. Her gaze met Link’s and she called out to him, but her words were muffled. 

Link walked across the stone floor towards Ganondorf, reaching for the hilt of the Master Sword with his left hand. 

His left hand tingled; a burst of magic shot through his arm. Link lowered his hand, eyes blowing wide when he saw the golden symbol of the Triforce glowing there. The lower right triangle gleamed brightly, while the other two remained dark. 

In her prison, Zelda lifted her own hand, revealing the mark of the Triforce emblazoned there as before. 

“At long last,” Ganondorf murmured, rising slowly. “The three pieces of the Triforce are together once more.” 

Navi hovered over Link’s left shoulder, her wings emitting a brighter glow than usual in the presence of such darkness. 

Ganondorf raised his right fist, presenting the back of his hand. The topmost triangle shone brightly. 

“I never imagined,” he continued in a low growl, “When I failed, seven years ago, to capture the entirety of the Triforce’s power, that the other two pieces would be hiding within the two of you.” 

He inhaled deeply, flexing his fingers and stretching an open palm towards Link. Dark energy gathered at his fingertips, coiling into a sphere of pure magical force. Link was thrown back to the day of Zelda’s escape, when he’d been a boy facing the most dangerous man in the world on the Castle Town drawbridge. 

Link unsheathed the Master Sword, brandishing it confidently in his left hand. The Triforce of Courage shone brighter still, lending him its gifts. 

Ganondorf stared down at him, his topaz eyes filled with hatred. “Time to correct that mistake,” he said to Link. “I will take what is rightfully mine!” 

From Ganondorf’s open palm a wave of dark magic shot out, surrounding Link. Navi was thrown back from the force of it. Link gripped tightly to the sword and Hylian shield, his hands shaking with the effort of resisting. 

“Navi!” 

“I can’t get close! I’m sorry, Link!” 

The torrent of evil magic ceased, and Ganondorf rose off his feet into the air, his cape wound around him. 

“Seems you won’t give up so easily,” he sneered. 

Link glanced up at Zelda inside the crystal, hovering near the ceiling. One hand cradled to her chest, she lifted the other and pressed it to the crystal’s surface. She met his eyes, communicating without words. 

Tearing himself away, Link focused on the man in front of him, smiling in a self-assured way. 

“Link watch out!” 

Ganondorf dove, driving his fist into the floor. Link scrambled out of the way as the stone cracked and crumbled, falling into the tower room several stories below. Panting, Link looked down from the edge of the gap as Ganondorf lifted into the air once more. 

The Gerudo king moved with impossible speed, driving into Link like a battering ram. Ganondorf’s fist collided with the Hylian shield at the last second. Link cried out, shoved backwards by the strength of the blow. Ganondorf grunted with effort, his teeth bared in a snarl, his eyes wild with fury. 

Link retaliated with a swing of the blade, but Ganondorf blocked it easily with his arm. All around him was an aura of dark magic, strong enough that it protected him from the Master Sword’s power. 

While Ganondorf retreated for another charge, Link sheathed the sword, reaching for the fairy’s bow and the Light arrows Zelda have given him. He’d used half of the dozen dispelling the magical barriers in the tower. He could not afford to miss; and this time, Navi wouldn’t be able to help him. 

Link grabbed the first arrow, aiming it at Ganondorf as he readied another strike. Undaunted by simple arrows, the king laughed harshly. 

Link released the bowstring. 

The missile of light found its mark, expelling the aura of evil magic around the king. Ganondorf howled as shards of light pierced him, ripped through his armour, shredded the length of his cape. 

With his foe vulnerable, Link used the Master Sword to release a bolt of energy. It struck Ganondorf anew, tearing straight through his body. Left behind was a scorching black gash in his side. Roaring in agony and fury, Ganondorf charged. 

Before Link could loose another arrow, he was struck and thrown. Crashing into the windows, Link heard the breaking of glass through the ringing in his skull. 

“Link!” Navi shrieked. 

The fog in his head cleared and Link reacted on instinct, rolling from the open window and the plummet to certain death. His second arrow shot out and found its mark. Ganondorf crumpled back to the ground. Another swing of the Master Sword ensured a wounded Ganondorf couldn’t get back to his feet in time. 

Link’s fingers grasped for another arrow. Ganondorf thrust his fist in the air, drawing on the Triforce’s power. A sphere of lightning gathered in his fist, swelling and growing until it was enough to engulf Link’s entire body. 

Ganondorf panted, ready to launch his deadly projectile. Link ripped back his bowstring, snapping it free. The third Light arrow sailed through the air, breaking through Ganondorf’s defenses. 

Master Sword in hand, Link charged the king. A beam of blue light exploded from the blade, piercing straight through Ganondorf’s chest. With a roar, Link drove the sword into the gaping wound. 

The king collapsed to his knees, the Master Sword sliding free of his flesh. Ganondorf lowered his head. Blood erupted from his mouth and he coughed, his hands clenched into fists. 

Weakly, Ganondorf began to laugh. He lifted his head, his eyes bloodshot. “I shouldn’t have underestimated you, kid.” 

His breaths short and labored, Ganondorf raised his arms with great effort. Screaming with outrage, he expelled a final burst of magic. The windows exploded outwards. Underneath them, the entire tower trembled. The ceiling broke apart and rained down. Link covered his head with the Hylian shield, gritting his teeth as the debris showered him. 

The earthquake stopped. Link opened his eyes. Ganondorf lay unmoving at his feet, his body ravaged by the effects of magic. 

From above, the crystal prison lowered to the ground. The barrier faded; Zelda was free. 

Link let the Master Sword and shield drop from his nerveless fingers with a clatter. The expression of relief on the princess’s face echoed his feelings. 

“Link,” she cried, wrapping him in her arms. Link put his arms around her, tucking his face against her hair. “You’re safe.” 

Link exhaled, cupping the back of her head in his palm. “Are you okay?” 

“Yes, we—” 

Tremors shook the floor under their feet. As the quakes intensified, the pair of them struggled for balance. Zelda’s alarmed gaze swept to his. Her fears were confirmed as she saw them in his thoughts. 

The tower was collapsing.


	54. The Final Battle

Zelda seized Link’s arm and tugged with force. 

“This way! Hurry!” 

The tower shook as stone cracked and wrenched apart. Link and Zelda rushed down the staircase. The windows shattered in their frames. A low roar was building from the base of the tower, punctuated by crashes as chunks came free. 

The entire structure buckled underneath them. Link stumbled, flinging out a hand to brace himself on the wall. 

“Zelda?” 

The princess released her death grip on Link’s forearm and righted herself. “I’m fine,” she gasped. She grabbed a fistful of her dress, then reached back and plucked a dagger from Link’s belt. She hacked at the hem, ripping and tearing until she could move without hindrance. 

Handing the knife back to Link, she hurried down the stairs. At the bottom, their path was blocked by a wall of boulders. 

“Stand back,” Zelda advised. She lifted her hands and summoned her magic—the rockslide barrier exploded outward, clearing the way. 

Zelda moved ahead without hesitation, but Link’s ears picked up the sound of the threat before she saw it. 

“Zelda!” 

A ReDead shrieked, its harrowing cry chilling Link down to the marrow. Zelda froze midstride, the fear paralyzed in her gaze. 

The emaciated form of the ReDead rose from the corner where it crouched in the shadows. Link blocked its path to the princess, brandishing the glowing blade of the Master Sword. 

The creature struck with alarming speed, its clawing hands reaching for Link’s face. Its eye sockets were empty, emotionless, but its jaws were stretched open as it howled in desperate hunger. 

Link hands felt the shick as the blade pierced skin. The ReDead cried out. 

As it crumpled to the floor, its spell broken, Zelda was freed from the temporary paralysis. She released a breath, pushing her hair back from her face with shaking fingers. 

Link searched her eyes for any ill effects. “Are you alright?” 

Zelda gulped, shaking her head as if to clear it. “Yes, thank you. We need to keep moving.” 

She started to move away, but Link laid a hand on her shoulder. 

When she turned to him questioningly, he said, “Let me go first.” 

She obliged, and Link led the way. As they hurried through the tower, stalfos and other dark creatures blocked their way, uncaring of the danger. None of them were a match for the Master Sword. 

The structure continued to deteriorate, forcing Link and Zelda to double back, blow through blockages or jump over gaps in the floor. The layout of the rooms he’d already seen were useless to Link as the entire map had shifted. All they could do was keep moving to the lower levels and hope there was an exit. 

Link’s fears were confirmed when they reached the lowest level and found it in complete rubble. 

“We’ll have to create an exit!” Zelda shouted over the rumble. Above their heads, the tower’s top was beginning to collapse inward. 

A hunk of stone hurtled down, striking Link in the shoulder before he could lift the Hylian shield. 

“Link!” 

Dazed, Link tried to get off the ground. Zelda’s hands wrapped around his shoulders. She tried to pull him to safety, but a shower of boulders was coming in the path of the first. 

Link blinked the dust from his eyes and threw up his right arm. Rocks smashed into his shield, deflected. Grunting from the pain, Link used the heels of his boots to help propel himself backwards. They collapsed in exhaustion underneath a chunk of wall. 

“Hold on, Link.” 

Zelda left his side. An explosion rattled Link, breaking through the noise and chaos of the tower’s collapse. Using the sword as a support, Link got to his feet. 

Zelda returned, hauling him outside. As fast they could, they crossed the Sages’ bridge. Link let himself stop only when they were some distance from the tower. Tremors raced through the earth, splitting it open. With a spectacular crash, the final remnants of the tower fell. A shockwave of energy burst out, showering the entire valley in ash. 

Link and Zelda surveyed the smoldering ruins, a mist of dirt on their faces and clothes. 

“It’s finally over,” she said, her voice hoarse. 

Link sighed, weariness and relief pulling at him. From the corner of his eye he spotted Navi hovering nearby and lifted a hand. She dropped into his palm, exhausted. 

_BOOM_

Zelda gasped. “What was that?!” 

The sound had come from the rubble. Looking over his shoulder to ensure Zelda was safe, Link passed Navi to her and grabbed the hilt of his sword. 

Cautiously, he walked towards the tower’s remains, listening for the sound once more. A few more steps, and it sounded again. 

Behind him, there was a hissing sound, and heat bloomed on his back. Spinning around in alarm, Link was greeted by a wall of fire that stretched between him and Zelda. 

“Stay back!” he warned when she took a step forward. 

She hesitated but nodded once. Navi flew over the flames and landed on Link’s shoulder. 

“I won’t let you fight alone again,” she promised him. 

The fire encircled the valley, enclosing Link inside a circle with the ruins in front of him. At his approach, a dark shape shot out of the rubble and into the sky. 

Link’s jaw loosened as he took in Ganondorf, his eyes burning like molten gold, his breaths raw and heavy. 

The king’s limbs contorted, drawing back, as if invisible strings were drawing them from their sockets. Ganondorf let out a scream of rage and torment. His bones broke with awful cracking sounds, reforming as his body began to change shape, growing and bulging. 

In place of the Gerudo king was a monstrous creature. It stood half as tall as the tower it stomped on. Its pig-like snout was decorated with huge, deadly tusks, its wide head set with horns. Its hide was thick and rough, covering hundreds of pounds of muscle. Standing on hind legs, it held in human-like hands two blunt, heavy swords. 

The beast glared at Link with demonic yellow eyes and roared, the force of it ringing in Link’s ears. With a sharp strike that belied its huge size, the monster disarmed Link, throwing the Master Sword from his hand outside the circle of fire. 

The blade spun in an arc, narrowly missing Zelda, before planting itself in the scorched earth. 

Link ducked a follow up swing, taking cover under a fallen turret. 

“Navi!? Does this thing have any weaknesses?!” 

Link’s shelter was wrecked with one hit from those giant blades, burying him in debris. Scrambling out of the way, Link tried to think of any weapon he had left that could help him. 

On the other side of the flames, the Master Sword’s shining blade was dark. The embodiment of evil was trying to crush him into so much dust, and the Sword of Evil’s Bane was out of his reach. 

Gritting his teeth in frustration, Link relied on speed to get him to the next pile of rocks where he could hide. The beast stormed after him, swinging wildly. 

Risking the opening in his defenses, Link rolled beneath the creature’s hooved feet. As he began to stand, the beast’s tail whipped around, catching him in the ribs. Tossed aside, Link crashed into a boulder with a pained groan. 

“His tail, Link!” Navi bobbed furiously. “Go for his tail!” 

Link resisted making a snarky comeback about his lack of weapons. The monster, Ganon, was readying a charge. 

Link grabbed for his hookshot. It would have to work. 

The speared end hit the beast in the neck. It squealed, hurt and stunned. Thick, dark blood poured from its wound as Ganon grabbed the chain and yanked it free, tossing Link’s hookshot aside. Enraged, it lifted its right-hand blade, swinging in a vertical arc. 

Reacting, Link darted to the right, but the beast was ready. With its other hand it swept the heavy blade in Link’s path. 

Struck by the blunted edge, Link’s breath was knocked out of his body. He collided hard with one of the collapsed turrets and slumped to the ground. 

He didn’t get up again. 

**~oOo~**

Watching from above, Fierce remained still, unseen by anyone in the crater left by the remains of the charred, ruined castle. The sight of the blackened valley, the ring of flames illuminating the battle, conjured familiar memories that he would rather forget. 

A chill, harsh wind barrelled through, sweeping his cloak behind him. His armor seemed to rattle from the punishment, though he knew it was incapable of breaking. 

Below the ridge he stood upon, the situation was bleak. Zelda stood just outside the flames, trying in vain to counteract them using her magic. For her, Link had been knocked down mere seconds ago; but for Fierce, every moment was an eternity. The beast was howling; its cry echoed through the crater as it turned on the fallen hero. 

“It’s time.” 

He had heard her approach. He let out a quiet sigh. “Time for what?” he asked. 

Ever blunt, she walked around to his side and looked him in the face. “It’s time to act. Intervene. I don’t think I have to remind you what the consequences will be if he dies.” 

Fierce looked away. “No,” he said simply. 

Her jaw tightened in frustration. “You can’t be serious.” 

Taking a deep breath in, he raised his head to meet her eyes. Her eyes were twin emeralds, burning with barely contained fury. Her long hair, as green and soft as forest shade, was tied into a braid that hung over her shoulder. 

“I will not interfere.” 

“And why not?” she demanded, crossing her arms. 

“I can’t change the course of events, Farore.” 

Her brows drew together. “You can. And you _must_. If you don’t, he will die.” 

She gestured below. Link hadn’t regained consciousness. Zelda was still unable to penetrate the wall of flames that blocked her. Behind her, the blade of the Master Sword glinted in the light from the fire. The monster, Ganon, was rearing up on its hind legs, its giant tusks swinging like scythes as it shook its head side to side. 

Fierce closed his eyes, remembering a similar beast he had faced. In his mind’s eye, he saw its tusks swinging towards him, threatening to slice him in two. He remembered the creature’s impenetrable armor, deep blue and unbreakable. Fierce reached up and placed a hand on the breastplate of his armor. His fingers ran over the waning moon he had etched into the surface; a reminder. 

“No,” he said again, opening his eyes. “If I interfere with this, all will be ruined.” 

Farore stepped in front of him, cutting off his view. “If you do nothing, the line is broken and Hyrule falls into decline. My sisters and I did not pour everything into the creation of this world to see it fall apart so soon.” 

Fierce couldn’t help a smile. He cupped her face with his hands, smiling fondly. “I chose you for this, my dear, for a reason. You create. I destroy.” His voice grew morose as his hands slipped from her face. “The last time I interfered for the sake of the world, I did not save it. The world decayed and died...as this one will someday.” 

Long ago, an impossible choice had been his burden. End the world, or let it be destroyed forever. Fierce had given the world a chance at rebirth. The land now known as Hyrule had been forged in the ashes of his destruction. 

“How long are you going to allow the past to haunt you?” she asked in a low voice. When he didn’t respond, she spoke more forcefully. “You cannot allow your past actions—actions that were necessary and unavoidable—to dictate your decision now.” 

Fierce closed his eyes, shutting out her stubborn expression. As if to mock him, his premonitions pushed their way through the barrier he’d locked them behind. In his mind he saw the events as they would transpire should he stay standing where he was. 

_Ganon charged, the massive tusks slicing with deadly accuracy. They impaled Link, tossing him into the air like a bloody rag doll. Unable to fight, to defend himself, he crashed to the ground. Broken ribs inhibited his breathing and prevented him from calling out as Zelda ran to him. The flame wall gone; her path was clear. Ganon watched maliciously as she cradled Link’s body in her arms. Blood stained her gloves as she attempted to revive him, but he was beyond help. _

_His eyes drifted close, and that was the end. Her scream shredded the night; her agony rang in the god’s ears. Ganon let out a bellow, triumphant at last. With a final swipe, his tusks tore straight through her. She was gone before she landed next to him, her arm still outstretched. _

_In that moment, the line was broken. The bearer of the Triforce of Courage had died; the golden relic left its host, no longer protected. Hyrule’s decline would begin. Heroes would rise to fight her battles and defeat her evils, but they would never truly possess the power of the gods again. They would never be able to truly conquer the blight of evil._

And then the world would meet its demise. It would fade out as if it had never been. Once again due to his actions. Only this time, there would be nothing left. No future. 

Fierce wasn’t a deity, or a hero. He was a mortal who had been gifted with powers he still didn’t fully grasp after millennia. The ancient Goddess had given him a gift that day; gratitude for his sacrifice. But in he’d also lost so much. He’d become a being of calamity, just like the demon he’d fought against. He was a shade of his human self, the ghost of a warrior full of regret. 

His eyes opened and fell on Link’s unconscious form. He’d foreseen the events of today; predicted the turning point in Hyrule’s history. They’d been his reasons for leaving the Sacred Realm for the world of mortals, hoping to alter the course of time in his favour. He’d soon realized that had been a mistake. 

So much destruction had been brought because of his presence. The faces of the people he’d ruined flashed in his mind’s eye. Naron, a sword run through him as he collapsed to the floor in front of his young son. Shaiya, bleeding from her wounds as she desperately tried to keep her infant alive long enough to reach safety. Sienna, her eyes staring into nothing but darkness. Dark, his tormented soul threatening to rip him apart from the inside out. 

He saw Zelda, her strength evaporating even as she fought for her life, the life of her Hero, and the entire people of Hyrule. 

Finally, his eyes came to rest on Link, the boy without a fairy. The boy without the home, the family and the life he should have had. The boy whose life had been stolen from him, yet he’d still stood up and taken hold of the sword. Taken hold of a destiny he hadn’t chosen. Link had selflessly heeded the call when no one else could, and he’d seen it through to the end. 

The world needed Link. 

Fierce’s feet began to move, sliding down the incline without his express orders. Passing the princess, he crossed through the barrier of fire, into the circle of battle. As he turned his head, he saw the tears running down the princess’s face. 

The beast before him roared, unaware of his presence, ready to take the final strike. Link lay still, covered in the rubble of the crumbled tower. His cuts were deep; he was beginning to pale. Carefully, Fierce knelt beside the Hero, placing a gauntlet-covered hand on his chest. Leaning close, he whispered words into Link’s ear that he wouldn’t remember hearing. 

“I change your fate today, because Hyrule is in need of a worthy champion.” He paused, unable to stop the waver in his voice when he said, “Do better than I have done.” 

Farore knelt in the ash beside him, sliding her palm beneath Fierce’s. Releasing Link and rising to his full height, Fierce stared down the behemoth. Time crawled. The monstrous Ganon was readying his final attack. 

Farore’s softly spoken words went unheard by any but the two gods. Under her palm, Link’s heart thumped, falling into a strong, sure rhythm. The worst of his wounds closed themselves, allowing his blood to flow freely again. Fierce turned to watch as color returned to Link’s face, and his eyes opened. 

Fierce reached behind his back, his fingers closing with determination on the hilt of his weapon. He flourished it before the beast. Twin blades, twisted into a figure eight, they had been carved from the tusks of the legendary beast. The sword would not break. 

Time was beginning to quicken. For the shadow of a moment, Fierce allowed Ganon to glimpse him. Bright, pupil-less yellow orbs fixed on him, betraying the beast’s alarm. Spinning, Fierce raised the mighty sword high, bringing it down in a decisive arc. The power of the blade hit the flames surrounding them, causing them to fizzle out. 

Shock filled Zelda’s face in the next instant, but she didn’t wait for an explanation. Seizing the Master Sword’s hilt, she yanked it free from the ground. She half-ran, half-stumbled to where Link was now recovering. 

Without a word, unseen by the pair, Farore retreated. Fierce paused to watch as Link stood tall, raising his sword in challenge as Ganon paced uneasily. 

Backing away from the scene, Fierce looked again into the creature’s face, its glowing yellow eyes seeking his out. 

“It’s over now,” Fierce whispered. 

This time, he knew he saw the fear lurking in the beast’s eyes. 

**~oOo~**

Zelda pressed the Master Sword’s familiar hilt into Link’s palm. She stayed close behind him, her hand clutching the fabric of his tunic while his free arm he used as a barrier between her and Ganon. 

The beast was snorting, pawing the ground in agitation. Its head shifted as it stared off at something behind them before returning focus to Link. It threw back its head and howled into the sky. 

Link’s mind was clear, and his body felt strong. His heart beat fast in his ribcage, but his hold of the sword was sure. 

Fatigue wore on him like a heavy cloak, grating on his injuries. Fear formed an icy lump in his stomach, but it could not pierce his heart. 

Link rushed the beast before it could charge, the soles of his boots breaking through the layer of ash. 

Trusting his instincts—and the quiet wisdom from within the Master Sword itself—Link dodged every blow Ganon had, weaved his way under the creature’s defenses. 

Acting on Navi’s advice, Link attacked the beast’s weaker tail. The Master Sword’s power crawled its way into the beast like an infection, slowing eating away at the evil energy within. 

Weakened, panting and snarling, Ganon finally fell to its knees. A beam of light engulfed him—Zelda's magic. Ganon howled in rage, thrashing as it was brought to the ground. 

Zelda, her hands outstretched, held on, her face pinched in effort. “Now, Link!” She met his gaze for a moment. “Before he breaks free!” 

Link looked back at the beast, on its belly, its teeth snapping, tusks swinging. 

Zelda’s hands dropped as her strength failed her. “Sages,” she gasped out, one hand held against her chest. “Help us.” 

Pillars of light shot down from the sky, each one a beacon in the night. The six, one for each Sage, formed a circle around Ganon, closing in until it was surrounded by light. 

The beacons stretched out, linking together to reform as one. Their brightness grew until Link could no longer look, holding his hand in front of his eyes. A high, faint hum rent the air, deafening him. 

In the place where Ganon lay, the Sages beacons were churning into a vortex. Crackling with ferocious magical energy, it threatened to suck in Link, Navi and Zelda. 

Link dug his heels in, slamming the Master Sword into the ground and using it as an anchor. With his free hand, he found Zelda’s and clutched it tight. 

The humming grew louder. The wind howled. Link’s hold on his sword loosened. 

Calm sprung between them and the vortex. The winds stopped. There was silence. 

A blue crystal barrier had formed around the two of them, protecting them. Link and Zelda watched the pure white cyclone continue to ravage the ruins, but its power didn’t touch them. 

Blackness threatened the edges of Link’s vision. He fought it, but it was no use. 

Unconsciousness pulled him under, and he knew no more.


	55. Ocarina of Time

Link was floating in the sky, free and weightless. Blue sky stretched on and on around him, blending seamlessly into the glass horizon. Only a few fluffy clouds broke its perfect smoothness. 

Zelda was there with him. She looked ethereal, Link thought. Like a celestial being in the clouds. 

He thought next that he was in a dream. Everything was brighter, more colourful. Her hair was so gold, her eyes the colour forest leaves under moonlight. He realized there were tears in her eyes. 

“Link...thank you. Ganondorf has been sealed in the Sacred Realm,” she told him. “Thanks to you.” 

They simply stared at each other for a long moment, sharing their relief and joy that their ordeal was over at last. She shocked him with her next words. 

“It’s time to return the Master Sword to its resting place and close the path to the Sacred Realm,” Zelda murmured. “We need to close the link between your time and this one and make everything right again.” 

Link gaped at her. “What?” 

“I need to make up for my mistakes.” Her gaze pleaded with him to understand. “I dragged you into Hyrule’s mess a long time ago. I was too young to understand the consequences, and as a result, Ganondorf used you to steal the Triforce. It was my responsibility to protect the Triforce and Hyrule.” 

“It was mine, too,” Link protested. “As the Hero of Time.” 

Fresh tears dropped down her cheeks. “And you’ve done your duty admirably.” 

Link curled his fingers over hers. “It was more than duty,” he said, holding her gaze with his. 

Zelda brushed aside her tears with her other hand, taking on the mask of duty and determination. “Link, I can return you to your own time. I can give you back the years that were lost when your spirit was held in the Sacred Realm.” 

Shocked, Link stared at their joined hands. It was possible to go back? He’d traveled through time once before, but it had never occurred to him the journey could be permanent. 

“I can send you back, and all of this will be undone,” Zelda was saying. “Ganondorf’s evil will never taint Hyrule if we stop him before he has a chance to take the Triforce.” 

“Is it really possible?” he asked, uncertainty worming its way in. 

“Yes, Link.” 

His attention snapped back to her. “What about you?” he asked. 

The sadness she tried to hide gave him his answer. “I need to stay here,” she said quietly. “Hyrule needs me more than ever.” 

“No,” he said immediately. “I can’t go back without you. _I_ need you.” 

“You’ll see me again,” she promised him. “In the past. We will meet as we did before.” 

“But you won’t remember me.” 

Zelda’s hands cupped his face, her eyes overflowing with tears now. Her voice was strong despite the tremor in her hands. “Link...it is our shared destiny to be whatever Hyrule needs in her time of suffering. Now that peace has returned to Hyrule, it is time for us to say goodbye. You can save countless lives by returning to your own time and foretelling us of the danger.” 

Link shut his eyes when he felt the hot prick of his own tears. “I promised you I would always do what was best for Hyrule,” he said, “But I don’t know if I can.” 

“You belong there, Link,” she said. “Let me give something back that was taken from you.” 

Link lifted her hands, pressed his lips to her skin. “I have everything I need. I can stay and rebuild Hyrule with you.” 

Her shoulders shook, her lips trembled. She gently pulled her hands free from his. “If you don’t go back, Link,” she warned him. “I fear what may happen. If the events of the last seven years are not erased and rewritten, Ganon’s evil may return once more.” She swallowed hard. “It is much easier to defeat a man than a demon. Ganondorf needs to be stopped before he gains the power of the gods.” 

Link’s shoulders slumped. “Unless I stop those events from happening, all of this might have been for nothing?” he asked. 

Anguish shone in her eyes. “It’s possible. The only way to be sure is to change the past. Please, Link, undo my mistakes and be where you are supposed to be. Be _who_ you are meant to be.” 

Link’s heart broke at the sight. She held out her palm. “The ocarina...Link.” 

Numbly, Link reached for the instrument, feeling its polished surface. He placed it in her hand, keeping his hand atop it. He lifted his head and met her eyes. 

“I will do as you ask,” he vowed. “I’ll ensure Ganondorf is stopped.” 

“Thank you, Li—” 

Her words were lost when he leaned in and caught her in a kiss. The ocarina held in her left hand, she fisted her right in Link’s tunic and yanked him closer. He slid his arms around her, keeping her as close as possible for the eternal moment of their embrace. 

As they pulled away, Link tried to catch his breath. “I’ll do as you ask,” he said. “But I won’t tell you goodbye.” 

Zelda’s eyes softened. Her fingers traced his face. “I’ll see you again.” Lifting onto her toes, she kissed him a final time. 

Turning the Ocarina of Time, she raised it to her lips. The song she played was not quite a lullaby—mysterious and harmonious. Each note possessed its own power; a presence in the air between them. 

Now familiar blue light surrounded Link, separating the two of them. Ancient magic reached out to him, caught him in its tide. He let it guide him, lead him where he needed to be. 

Slowly, he was lifted into the air, away from Zelda. She’d stopped playing, but the concordant music echoed. Link looked back at her as long as he could, until the pull of the past dragged him away. 

*********

Back inside the Master Sword’s chamber, Link watched the pale blue light fade away again. 

Back in its pedestal, the Master Sword gleamed in the partial light, awaiting the next time the Hero came to claim it. The seal between Hyrule and the Sacred Realm was restored. The power of the gods was safe. 

Link glanced up at the tall windows, up near the ceiling of the circular antechamber. Weak sunlight cascaded down. 

The familiar bell sound of Navi’s wings drew his attention. She was strangely quiet. 

Navi hovered near Link’s shoulder, as always, the glow of her wings fading in and out. Slowly, she began to fly upwards, passing over the Master Sword and higher towards the ceiling. 

“Navi?” 

Navi continued until she reached the decorative windows high above. Without a sound, she passed through the empty panes and into the sunlight. 

Grief clenched Link’s heart. He knew Navi wouldn’t be back. She’d fulfilled her promise to his guardian. 

Link forced himself to turn away from the Master Sword and walked back into the main temple. To his surprise, the altar where he’d placed the three Spiritual Stones was empty. The stones were missing. 

Behind him, the great stone door rumbled to a shut at his exit. The Ocarina of Time hadn’t left him in the exact spot when he’d taken the Master Sword from its pedestal. Puzzled, Link hurried outside. 

It was a sunny morning, and the Temple of Time’s gardens were quiet and serene as ever. 

Navigating his way to Castle Town’s marketplace by memory, Link was even more confounded to find it was exactly as he recalled. The earliest risers were getting out of bed, tending to chores or setting up their stalls for the morning rush. 

Wracking his memory, Link tried to picture his first forays into Castle Town, his first meeting with Zelda. What day was it? 

He didn’t know the exact date he’d first arrived in Castle Town, so there was no help there. Scanning the shops and stalls, his gaze landed on a familiar sign. The Happy Mask Shop’s door was closed, but the sign outside cheerily proclaimed its official opening would happen the following week. 

If the shop wasn’t yet open, perhaps it was the very day Link had arrived. 

“That guard was really cross with me again!” a man’s voice complained. 

“Stop trying to sneak into the castle, then, Bomberd,” his companion wisely advised. 

The first man huffed. “I only wanted a glimpse. They’ve posted more soldiers around the castle grounds lately.” 

Link turned, seeing two mustached men, brothers, by their similar looks, strolling through the square. Seeing an opportunity to fish for information, Link ran up to them. 

“Why have they posted more guards at the castle?” 

The two men looked down their noses at him. “Why do you think, kid?” the second man asked. “The Gerudo tribe’s leader is arriving tomorrow. They need to be ready in case something happens, you know.” 

Link watched as the two men carried on their way, then glanced north. The pale outline of the castle’s spires was visible just above the peaked roofs of Castle Town. 

If Ganondorf hadn’t yet arrived in Castle Town, perhaps it was sooner than he’d first thought. 

Wasting no more time, Link turned and headed for the castle. 

*********

The little interior courtyard was just as remembered it. 

Returning to this place, Link experienced the oddest sensation of both memory and trepidation. Skirting the castle guards had been a cinch. Now he would have to face Zelda. 

Will she remember me? 

Despite the doubts stirring in Link’s chest, he fervently hoped so. She stood in front of the stained-glass window at the top of the steps, her back to him. Just as before. 

If today was the day he believed it to be, this Zelda hadn’t yet met him outside the Temple of Time. All of their history hadn’t yet happened and might never. Their friendship was erased from time. 

Gathering his courage, Link approached the bottom step. 

“Zelda?” 

Her head turned at the sound of his voice. In a whirl of skirts, she faced him. Those familiar turquoise eyes landed on Link. They stared at each other. Disappointment dropped into his stomach. She didn’t remember. 

A smile spread across her face. Recognition lit her eyes 

“Link.” 

Her expression brightened with joy and she rushed down the steps to meet him.


	56. Epilogue

_Snowhead Mountains_

Dark pulled the tie on his rucksack tight, securing the knot around the top. He hefted it onto his back, shifting until it was comfortable. 

Despite repeated attempts to tell himself not to, he gave the mountain cottage one last look around. It had been his home for so many years. An escape from his past. A happy place. 

It wasn’t anymore. The memories the little house held were tainted. 

Closing the door behind him, Dark secured his traveling cloak around his shoulders. He didn’t bother to lock the door—let someone else take up residence there. 

Dark didn’t think he would ever live in Termina again. And he would never set foot in Hyrule again. 

Crossing the snow-covered clearing, he stopped at the headstone bearing Sienna’s name and knelt in the wet grass. Touching the headstone with his fingertips, Dark bowed his head. 

“I’ll come back and visit when I can,” he promised. 

Rising to his feet, Dark turned and headed for the craggy mountain path. It would be a long way, especially on foot, but he had no particular destination in mind. 

With each step he felt the grief’s claws pierce his heart deeper. He just needed to get away for a while. Needed to get far away from Termina. From Hyrule. From everything that chased him. 

Dark followed the mountain’s winding path, keeping his back to the rising sun in the east and heading towards an unknown future.


End file.
